


Beneath Every Flower Hides A Snake

by Allura_11849



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Attempted Kidnapping, Base Invasion - Freeform, Conspiracy, F/M, Flashbacks, Flirting, Government Agencies, Government Conspiracy, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Bad At Titles, Implied Relationships, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Microchip, Omnic Racism, Original Character(s), Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Brainwashing, Past Relationship(s), Post-Omnic Crisis, Post-Recall, Revenge, Romantic Friendship, Suicidal Thoughts, Talon - Freeform, Violent Thoughts, omnic conspiracy, overwatch agent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-05 08:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10302890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allura_11849/pseuds/Allura_11849
Summary: My name is Loura 'Viper' Sinclair, and I have spent my whole life to become a part of Overwatch. But what will I do when everything I thought I knew is turned inside out?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please go easy on me! I've never posted any fan fictions online before, and this is the first one I am ever publishing. I already have the first 18 sections written and ready to go, but I'm only going to post the first few parts to see if people are at least interested before I post more. Comments are much appreciated!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [[REVISED 16-03-2017]]

I watch the screen, so vivid as if it wasn't footage from the omnic crisis years ago, when I was only a child. I watch this footage every now and then to remind myself why I fight, why I chose to join the Overwatch Recall.  
The footage displays the omnics crisis destroying the place of my birth, the greater national capital region, and then the footage cuts to a small town outside of the capital city in Canada, my home town, showing the various rescue ops taking people's children to be relocated for their own safety; as a part of the first wave evacuation. I tap the screen to pause it after a few moments, and there I was, just 5 years old, being handed off by only who I could assume was parents to the officials to save my life. I don’t remember their faces anymore. The footage was taken only a few hours before a bomb was dropped, killing my family.  
After the crisis, I was left in the orphanage with all the other kids from my home town, one by one getting adopted after the crisis ended, but never me. No. There was something in my green blue eyes that made them not want me. I never could figure out what. Perhaps it was a haunting look of a child that knew her mother and father were dead,and no one could ever replace them, or maybe it was something else. But that was the past.  
Turning off my standard issue tablet, I glance at the clock on my desk. 5:03am? Damn it, I was supposed to sleep in! With an annoyed sigh, I climb out of bed and stretch my arms before I begin to get ready for the day. I never knew when or where I might be deployed, but judging by the fact I wasn't called in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn, I may not get deployed until later on today, if at all, which means it was time for my daily routine. Throwing on a pair of standard issue sweats, and a pair of sneakers, I leave my quarters and head for the mess hall, tying my hair back with a dark green skrunchie as I go. Time to get some grub.  
Once there, I give a friendly wave to Lena who is already up and having breakfast with Mei and Hana. I get along well enough with the trio, but I never bothered to join them for meals or girl-gab. No, I am a bit of a loner and tend to eat by myself, unless someone chose to join me. I grab myself a classic breakfast of ham, buttermilk pancakes, eggs, home fries, and a fruit cup and then move to my usual table by myself near a window. I glance around, and relax, not seeing a certain cowboy that loves teasing me. I casually eat my breakfast, thinking about my last mission.  
It was a super easy job, a stake out really, watching some diplomat's house that had been tipped off to be attacked by Talon. There had been no attack planned, as it turned out, and only a prank call by some idiot kid that thought it would be funny. Needless to say, it was a waste of time, but easy money.  
"Mornin' Darlin' " A distinctly southern voice coos in my ear, making me jump up with a yelp, turning and nearly punching the smug, scruffy looking face behind me. Fortunately for McCree, he is used to my reactions by now and catches my fist with ease.  
"DAMN IT JESSE!" I shout in annoyance, cheeks turning pink as I hear people around me laughing. Jesse is laughing too, grinning from ear to ear, coffee brown eyes sparkling with mischief. He does this EVERY chance he gets. For a guy with spurs on his boots, he was sneaky when he wanted to be... well, to be fair, I had been lost in thought. After a moment he lets go of my fist. With a huff, I turn around, flustered, and sit back down to have my breakfast.  
Jesse McCree, my annoying co-worker, friend, and field partner. Sure, if I could choose, I'd rather work with ANYONE but Jesse due to his enjoyment of getting a rise out of me, but it was undeniable that our combined skill was a killer combo.  
After I sit, Jesse invites himself to sit with me, as usual. I eye his mechanical arm as I eat, as I often do. I trust Jesse.... but I didn't trust a mechanical arm. Something about it being too similar to omnics made me uncomfortable. But Jesse doesn't mind, he knew my past by now. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention, in his own, weird Jesse way.  
"So, wanna go down to the training room after breakfast?" I ask, already knowing his answer. This was pretty routine at this point; having been a part of Recall for 2 years now. Like clockwork, Jesse grins, sipping his black coffee. "You know I do, darlin'."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [[REVISED 16-03-2017]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the first chapter was a bit dull, but this one is much longer and has more content! The edge lord makes an appearance in this much more lively section! As always, comments are welcome!  
> ♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

"That all you got, Viper?!" Jesse shouts, firing a few more paint-rounds my way, which I manage to dodge. Grinning, I flick my wrist, swatting the paintball version of his Peacekeeper out of his hand with my bullwhip. There is a reason my field name was Viper, and it is all due to my unmatched skill of disarming with a whip. Flicking his firearm off to the side, I flick my wrist again and tug as the whip wrapped around his ankle, yanking him to the ground, and knocking the wind out of his lungs.  
I frown, keeping a firm grip on my whip as I walk closer, keeping the weapon tight around his ankle. He is grinning and my frown turns into a full on scowl. Not again!  
"You let me win!" I hiss, making McCree laugh his ass off. He really did enjoy getting a rise out of me. I tug lose my training whip, made of much gentler materials then the one I use in the field. Feeling petty and spiteful, I kick him in the shin. Hard. A grin of satisfaction rises across my lips as his laughter is cut short by a choked yelp, his hands moving to clasp his poor assaulted shin. Propping a fist on my hip, I smirk down at him.  
"Have you learned your lesson about going easy on me?" I say, waiting. But all he does is chuckle.  
"Never." He says back, recomposing himself. With a huff and a roll of my green blue eyes, I offer my friend a hand, smiling a bit.  
"You're unbearable, Jesse." I say. When he takes my hand and I begin to haul him up off the ground, I'm taken by surprise as he yanks me down, rolling so he has me pinned beneath him, grinning. For someone who smokes and drinks black coffee, his teeth are surprisingly white.  
"And yet, you're stuck to me like glue." He teases, a strange gleam in his eyes. A flush creeps darkly across my cheeks as I lay beneath the charming cowboy, taken off guard. I can't help myself and turn my head to the side, pouting and uncomfortable with that strange look. I'd never seen anyone make that expression at me before. "Stop it Jesse." I murmur, feeling anxious.  
He is so close, my heart is racing in my chest. I can feel his chest rising and falling above me as he breaths, as ragged as my own, felt his exhaling breath against my ear, and... his knee resting between my own. But, before my mind can spin up any other thoughts, he lets go, grinning as he pushes himself off of me into a standing position, offering his hand. His robotic hand. Scowling, I stand on my own and shoot him another glare. "I swear to god, McCree, you go easy on me again, and I will report you to Soldier 76!"  
"Oh will you now?" Jesse challenges with a sly grin. He knows I;m bluffing. I always do. But, this time, neither of us noticed 76 standing in the corner, watching. Hearing the exchange, we both jump as we hear his authoritative voice.  
"McCree!" Soldier calls, his voice stern. Jesse curses, rubbing the back of his neck with his actual hand as he grabs his hat from the bench, tugging it on. He flashes me one last charming smile before he marches over to Soldier 76 for a scolding. I take this opportunity to duck into the locker room for a timely exit to the showers after our spar. The locker room is empty, so I didn't bother going into a cubicle to strip, or even try to wrap a towel around myself, calmly walking into the farthest shower from the door and tug the curtain shut behind me. The showers, one of the few sanctuaries I had to let my mind wander. I turn the water to ice cold, just the way I like it, before stepping into the moderately well pressured water. As I let the ice cold water run over my skin and into my ears, I think about random things while washing my thick auburn mop of hair with apple scented shampoo, getting a good lather going. What kind of mission would I be sent on next? What adversaries would I be facing? And what was up with McCree today? I tried not to, but I can’t stop thinking about it. He seemed a little more playful than usual in our sparr today. Did he underestimate me as an agent? Sure he was always playful... but... the past few weeks he seemed a little too comfortably teasing, in what I presume would be a familial way. I barely remember what family feels like; it felt like lifetimes ago.  
At first I began to think he saw me as a little sister, going easy on me, keeping me company, and generally being a good, goofy guy. But... is it more? The way he'd been so close, pinning me beneath him..? Shaking my thoughts, I wash my body quickly and then rinse down, the cold helping clear my head.  
Turning off the shower head, I stiffen, hearing... gunfire? Actual gunfire? The firing range is closed for maintenance... in a panic, I tug open the shower curtain and grab my towel, wrapping myself up as I glance at the alarm system. Oh no. Oh. No. The light is off. The alarm system is disabled. Cursing myself, I throw on my track pants and t-shirt, not wasting time putting on undergarments or shoes as I dash for the door. However, I nearly slip and fall on the tiles when I hear gunshots right outside the door. In a panic, I run to the alternative exit to the locker room, leading into the main corridor near the cafeteria. Now out of the locker room, I can hear a lot of shouting and gunfire. The base is under attack. It is still early morning, when most are still groggy and off guard; some most likely asleep after night recon missions. The perfect time to attack. Cursing internally, I do my best to avoid being seen, taking halls as far from the gunfire as I can, as I am an unarmed defensive-support, and going towards the conflict would be suicide. I have to either get to my room or the armory. Unfortunately, the armory is in the direction of the shooting, so my only choice is my room. I always kept a set of gear in there for myself in case of something just like this. Well.. not this, exactly. Unless the attack is being made by omnics; in which case, exactly this reason. You can't help being paranoid in this day and age, with terrorists running rampant, and omnics calling for rights, as if they are actual sentient beings and not a bucket of bolts and programming. Needless to say, my prejudice to omnics is only rivaled by Zarya, who is MUCH more open about her displeasure of the omnics.  
I run silently, the only sound the soft tap of my bare foot pads on the tiled floors, doing my best to control my panicked breathing. As I run, I can hear the conflicts drawing closer, as if they are chasing me specifically. Paranoid? Probably.  
But as I round the corner to my room, I feel a wave of relief wash over me like euphoria as I don’t see anyone, friend or foe. Jogging the last few paces to my door, I fumble with the door knob for only a second, hands shaking a bit. This is crazy! My only home I could truly remember is under attack; and I, at the moment, am an unarmed defensive support. Alone. In nothing more then a t-shirt and sweat pants. Not good for my chances of survival at all. I need to get my ass into my gear and high tail it to the nearest offensive agent to offer my support. The capabilities of an electric whip for disarming and stunning is very useful, but useless without offensive support in a firefight.

However, as I push the door open, something cold presses to the back of my neck, sending shivers of fear down my spine. A large barrel. I freeze, door open and staring forward. Many thoughts race through my head, but only two are coherent. Is this how I died? Who was going to take my life? Lucklessly, one of my questions is answered as the barrel pressed harder, openly threatening me to co-operate.

“Do as I say, or you’ll wish you were dead.” The ominous, gravely voice behind me orders. I stay very still, fear engulfing me as my blood runs cold. I’ve seen the footage, read the reports, and heard the audio…. There is only one person, no not a person, one monster, who could move so silently, and had a demonic voice like that. Talon’s number one mercenary, Reaper. All recall agents were required to know the names, faces, and skills of their most notorious enemies. If Reaper is here… and he hasn’t flat out killed me... That only left one question. Why?  
“Hands up.” He growls. I take a deep breath to steady myself, needing to stay calm as I do as I'm told, raising my hands up. He doesn’t move the shotgun as tendrils of black smoke frisk me down, assuring I am unarmed, which makes me very uncomfortable, considering my rushed choice of minimal clothing. Satisfied with the lack of weapons, he pushes the shotgun a little bit harder against the soft base of my skull, not hard enough to push me forward, just an open threat.  
“What’s your name?” He says, his voice sounding closer. Steeling my nerves, I manage to say it without a quiver in my voice, despite being threatened by someone who is basically death itself.  
“Viper.” I answer, knowing only to provide code name. Waiting for what feels like forever, I begin to tremble a little. A low chuckle rumbles next to my ear, and I knew I am in trouble. Thud! Without any warning, something strikes the back of my neck hard, causing my vision to flash white and knees to buckle, letting out a startled cry as I begin falling to the floor with a hard thud, causing the door to fling open on impact with my face. That might hurt later, when the back of my head didn't ache as much. He hit me really hard! Any harder and he might have broken my neck.  
Before I can push myself up, he's straddling me, pressing a moist, ether-smelling rag over my mouth and nose, causing me to gasp in my surprise. Bad move on my part, as my head begins to swim, shadows tugging at my vision. I thrash out, trying to reach and lash out in any way that I can, but his inky black tendrils hold me down with ease, preventing me from fighting back.  
Within minutes I can’t fight back anymore or keep my eyes open, consciousness slipping rapidly with each breathe.  
But just before I lose consciousness, I feel a sharp sting on the back of my neck, a gravely murmur of ‘this is for your own good’, and a loud ‘BANG’!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short Flashback and a half chapter.

They didn’t know I was outside the door, listening. I stood in the hall of the Port Of Spain orphanage the day after the omnic crisis had been ended. I’d been going to find out when I could go home, excited to be home again. But all my dreams were shattered when I overheard the orphanage staff, and with it, broke my 7 year old heart, my tiny fist frozen in front of the partially open door.  
“The children are going to be so heart broken, we can’t delay the truth any longer.”  
“What, do you want to flat out tell them? Do you know how emotionally damaging it could be to them? The youngest is only 2!”  
“Better that then tell them their parents’ don’t want them anymore, and we’d find them new ones.”  
“But think about them. Don’t you remember all the stories and pictures Loura had been making these past 2 years? How can you tell such a sweet child that her parents are dead?”

~

Several hours later, consciousness would rapidly rise, like ripping my mind from one world and throwing it into another none too gently. I let out a groan from the sensation, head pulsing and stomach churning. My eyes only flutter open momentarily, just enough to see I am in a bright, white room, in a bed. As soon as I did, I slam my eyelids shut again, a wave of nausea washing over me like a putrid gas and smoke. Someone is there with me, but I refuse to make the sickness worse as I turn onto my side, finding a bucket waiting for me, as whatever had been in my stomach, presumably my breakfast, makes a return trip to my mouth. It was definitely not as enjoyable as it was when I first ate it, the tastes so mingled and vile, burning my throat and tongue. I heave up everything else in my stomach from the sensation of the first retch alone, and continue to dry heave for about 3 minutes straight before my body finally settles. I groan again, laying on my side and begin to pass out again, feeling a cloth wiping my lips and chin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A MUCH larger chapter. I'm bad at segmenting things; Sorry <3
> 
> [[REVISED 16-03-2017 because I noticed all the mistakes and errors I'd made when I posted!]]

Later, dreams repeating, I whimper, head pulsing with a dull ache. I lay with my eyes closed, trying to remember what happened. Oh. Oh no… my home was attacked… and I’d been singled out and chloroformed by Reaper… and I was still alive? Did that mean I had some sort of value to the enemy? My mind flickers to Ameile Lacroix, now better known as Widowmaker…. Did Talon have some sort of plan for me, similar to what they did to her? Staying as still as I could, I keep my breathing steady, listening around me. I focus as hard as I can, and satisfied by the silence, I open my eyes. I am in an infirmary of some kind. Slowly, I sit up, feeling a little bit sluggish. Looking around, I examine my surroundings. It looked like any generic infirmary room, nothing significant or identifying about it. Pristine clean, white everything, the smell of antiseptic, the soft hum of hospital appliances.  
Shaking a bit, I get up, noticing my sweats folded in a chair beside the bed I’ve been in. Glancing down, I nearly retch. I was outfitted in a pair of peach-pink medical scrubs. I need to get out of these ugly things pronto!  
I move to pick them up, but then I pause. Footsteps. In the hall. Heading towards me. In a panic, I pad across the room, pushing my back flat against the wall next to the door so that when it opened, it would offer me some cover between the door and a medical cabinet. Just as my back presses against the wall, the door slowly pushes open, not making a single creak, as if whoever was coming in was being courteous of someone sleeping within the room. However, as soon as the door was open enough for the bed to be noticeably empty, it swung open fully, concealing my form behind the door, the medical cabinet the only thing keeping the door from hitting me in the face. The sound of someone looking around in a panic is evident, but the throbbing headache in my skull is making it difficult to focus. I have to think fast. It wouldn’t be long before anyone with half a brain would look where I am hiding. Glancing around my limited view, there is nothing to arm myself with. I could try and surprise them? Or I could try to sneak away… the door hadn’t so much as made a sound when whoever had come in had opened it… that would most likely be the best option in an unarmed situation. Steeling my nerves, I push the door slowly, just enough for me to slip out from behind it. Wasting no time to look and find out who had come in, I dash for the door. Unfortunately for me, whoever it was had been really close the door when I’d made my run for it. A cold, metal hand clamps down on my right bicep, tugging me back. I yell, going to lash out as I’m spun, only to still be too dizzy to keep my balance as I fall against the person’s chest. Their other hand, warm and gentle, rests on my shoulder to steady me.  
“Woah there, partner!” A warm, familiar, and distinctly southern voice would say. Green blue eyes wide, I look up to him with surprise and relief, relaxing and wobbling a bit in his grasp.  
“Jesse… Oh thank god..” I murmur, making him smirk. This had to be the absolutely most happy I've ever been to see the cowboy in the two years I’ve known him. Without hesitating, having been prepared for the worst, I hug him tight, trembling a little at the memory of the cold barrel against the back of my neck.  
“Loura.... Let’s get you sitting down, okay darlin’?” He says, gently prying my arms off of his torso, a slight blush in his cheeks. For all his flirty, cheeky acts, he certainly seemed shy when receiving affection. I let him guide me back to the infirmary bed, sitting on the edge.  
“What… what happened?” I ask after a moment, eyes training to the floor as my left hand rubs the back of my neck. There is a long pause, but then Jesse spoke, and my heart sunk at his words.  
“Talon attacked the base when we were vulnerable. We lost 18 people, 30 injured… and 4 abducted.”  
“Abducted?!” My eyes shoot up, feeling panic seep into my very soul. Jesse has his head tipped in a way that covers his expression with the brim of his goofy hat as he continues.  
“All Recall agents like yourself, fully trained and relatively new to this lifestyle…. It was almost 5 abductees… had I been a few seconds later…” He trails off, anger in his voice, and I can’t help but stare in amazement.  
“You… you saved me from thee Reaper?” I ask, not doubting his skill, but knew that even the senior members of overwatch had fear of Reaper. To my reaction, McCree chuckles, standing up and placing his real hand on the top of my head, gently ruffling my long mop of ginger curls in a familial way.  
“Course I did, Viper. Couldn't let them take away my partner, now, could I?” He flashes that heart melting smile, before looking up as the door opens, looking like a cat caught with its paw in a fishbowl.  
“För helvete, McCree. You should have came to get me the moment she woke up.” Dr.Zigler says as she enters the room, dressed in typical doctor attire. Ironed dress pants, silk dress shirt, dress shoes, and a lab coat thrown over top. She looks exhausted, no doubt because of all the patients she has to tend to. I smile in relief, glad to see her, as well as not seeing any injuries on her person. She moves over to the bed with the warm smile she always greets me with,  
“How are you feeling, Loura?” She asks, the angelic doctor picking up an arm cuff to check my blood pressure. I ponder for a moment, doing a mental self assessment of my whole body. My head still hurts, but I'm not as dizzy, and nothing else really seems to hurt.That was good.  
“Just a bit of a headache.” I murmur, hand moving back to rub the back of my head.  
“You are very lucky, you know.” She would begin as she takes the cuff off my arm and begins doing the rest of her check-up, including checking my eyes dilation and pulse. “Had Jesse not thought to look for you, you would have been taken as well, and you may have very well died.” I shiver at her words, remembering the events all too clearly. “You had been given a large dose of chloroform, and had been struck hard in the back of the head, rendering you temporarily comatose. It would have killed you had you been taken from us.” I look up to her, my green blue eyes meeting her serene sky blue orbs. She is being as warm as she could but she was also being professional and disclosing all information to her patient. That drew another question to my mind. Two, actually. How long had I been out, and how bad had the head injury been? Was it internal bleeding that caused it? As if seeing one of the questions in my eyes, she places a gentle hand on my shoulder, comforting me. “You’ve been unconscious for only 48 hrs.” She then examines the rest of me, touching the base of my skull gently, where I'd been hit. I flinch a little, but it only stung, it was bearable.  
“Still tender…" She murmurs, "I’m going to give you a prescription for some light pain medication; take as needed, maximum 2 pills every 4hrs.” She takes a bottle of acetaminophen out of her lab coat pocket, and hands it to me, as if she knew ahead of time exactly what she needed to perscribe. It was a decent sized bottle, approximately 80 red and blue gel capped pills.  
“Thanks Dr.Zigler.” I say to her with a smile.  
“Oh, don’t thank me yet. I’m also submitting a medical referral to keep you out of the field until I am confident in your physical condition.” She says, making me frown, but nod. Man, this was going to suck! No missions meant basically house-arrest. I had to stay on base until the medical referral is withdrawn.  
“Now, I do have other patients to attend to, so I will take my leave.” She says, giving my shoulder one last comforting squeeze before she vacates the infirmary room, leaving myself and McCree alone again. There is a large sum of silence before either of us speak. I decide to break the silence first, asking the first question that pops into my head.  
“How did you save me?” I blurt out, which makes him chuckle.  
“When you didn't come out of the change room door after I was lectured by 76, I got worried. I was going to ask Zarya to pop in and check on you, since you don't usually take long showers after a spar, but that's when all hell broke loose. Talon agents came in guns blazing. Now tickle us paranoid, but Zarya and I never go anywhere unarmed. She triggered her shields just in time to save both of us, and then I reacted. I drew my revolver and shot several of them down before remembering you were still in the changeroom. So I did the only thing I could think of. I went in; and I only found your underthings and shoes. I was so worried about you, but I managed to remain calm since there was no blood. So I went after you, figuring you would typically try to arm yourself and not get caught.” He grins, knowing me better than I’d realized before. But it wasn't entirely surprising since the two of us are partners in crime. He continues, sounding confident. “You're smart, Loura, you'd listen and take the path to somewhere without conflict. Since the armory was where the attack had started, I figured you'd head for your room, since you keep gear in there, like most of us do. It did help that your hair left a small trail of water drops to follow as well.” He chuckles again before his expression grew serious, as if he were angry. “When I rounded the corner, you were sprawled on the floor, face down and halfway in your room. I thought the worst had happened, especially since HE was crouched beside you.” His words are laced with venom, and so very cold when he spoke of Reaper. “I didn't think of what could have happened to me, I acted. I threw my flashbang, and managed to stun him long enough to let loose a few rounds in him before reinforcements arrived and he wraithed away. Damn coward.” He was really angry now. “When he was gone, I looked at your body, and I feared the worse. But when I approached, you were fine. I was so relieved he hadn't shot you.” He flash his charming smile, making my heart flutter. He really, really cared about me, more then I had realized, and it made me feel guilty for how I am. “After that, they seemed to retreat, and we didn't know why. After doing a head count and checking the bodies, 4 other recall agents had been taken; and no one had even noticed. They'd been asleep when the attack happened. We concluded why they retreated after failing to capture you. They were recruiting our members and you were the last check mark on their list... since they failed to get you, they retreated with those they'd managed to grab. It was confirmed after we managed to capture one of their's and prevented him from offing himself. Bastard had a kill switch AND a cyanide tooth in his mouth…" He pauses, staring at me with concern, "Hey, darlin’ there's no need to… shh.” He breaks off, standing close and hugging me comfortingly. I hadn't even realized I started to shake and cry at some point, but there was no stopping it now, tears running down my face freely. The information is both shocking and terrifying to me, confirming my fears when it had happened. They'd planned on kidnapping me, and make me into another Amelie. I'd been lucky to have such a caring friend to save me, but my comrades hadn't been so lucky. I knew they were doomed. They were going to be tortured and mentally assaulted until they're fully reprogrammed into Talon’s killing drones. What I feel now can only be described as survivor's guilt.  
McCree gently comforts me until I can calm down. ' I'd almost been taken, but I wasn't. Jesse had saved me. I was still here. I had to get better soon, and then fight back. ' I repeat this over and over in my head, like a soothing mantra.  
When I calm, Jesse lets go, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “I'll never let them take you away from us. We're family, and we’ll fight together to the bitter end.” He says, making me smile, raising a fist to rub my eyes. This is the first time he referred to me as family.  
“Let's get you back to your room, Viper.” He says, scooping up my sweats and offers his real hand to help me up. I take it gratefully, my feet still bare as the two of us exit the infirmary room and head for my room. Jesse kept holding my hand the whole way, which helped me feel safer. As we walk, I don't speak much, replaying what happened in my head with the information McCree gave me. Something was off about what happened, and what I experienced. Something was missing. But what could it be? A small, overlooked, but very important detail, no doubt. My curiously consumed my mind as I walk, and before I knew it, there we were, standing at my door again, holding hands. I look to McCree, feeling guilty for not even trying to make small talk.  
“Sorry for being so quiet…” But he is having none of it, cutting me off there. “No need to apologize, Loura, I understand.” He lets go of my hand and raises it, giving my shoulder a squeeze again. “Now you rest up, sugar, and I'll check on you later.” I smile warmly, grabbing his arm and give a reassuring squeeze back. I was okay because of him. I owe him a lot, that is for sure. “Thanks you, Jesse, for thinking of me.” I then open the door, giving him one last smile before I take my stuff from his arms and retreat to my bedroom. I did notice he looked like he wanted to say something more, but chose not to. Well, knowing him, it was probably some goofy remark. Without another word, I close the door behind me, and stand alone in my dark room.  
I sigh, flat out dropping my clothes to the floor without the slightest care and strip, shivering at how cool my room seems to be. It doesn’t feel the same in here anymore… which is just silly. The base must be cranking the AC lately, it isn't usually this cold, I reassure myself. At a glance, nothing is different about my room.  
I move to my dresser, taking out my usual attire. Sand brown shorts, a green turtleneck tank top, and lime green thigh high socks. This was me combat clothes; all I am missing is my reinforced leather chaps, combat boots, gear belt and kevlar vest. All of which I set on me empty end table, within arm’s reach. Like hell I was going to sleep without my gear next to me. Not after what happened. Pulling the basic blue blanket off of my twin sized bed, I crawl in and wrap myself up, shivering softly. Why is it so cold?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback!

“Congratulations, Loura. We have reviewed your portfolio and have accepted your application. Welcome to Overwatch. You will be a part of our recall unit once you complete training. You'll always be partnered with a senior agent in the field. Depending on how you do in training will determine your partner. Any questions?” The large gorilla asked and I was all but shrieking for joy.   
I could tell he could see it too, because he was just as happy to have a new member on their team. “Yes! Can I sign the contract now?” I said eagerly, feeling like a child being given all the things they could ever dream of.   
All my hard work was finally paying off. This made Winston laugh heartily, pushing over the terms and conditions. “You know, you're the most enthusiastic applicant we've had in a very long time. Now, the terms remained the same as they were from your interview. The only thing that has yet to be determined is your emergency contact.”   
I frowned at that, lips pursed and brows knit and Winston gave a soft, understanding smile. “You don't have much in the way of family too, huh?” I nod.   
“Well there is nothing wrong with that. I didn't have a contact either when I joined Overwatch originally. But eventually, I found someone very important to me, and she's been my contact ever since. Until you choose someone, it’ll be left as Dr.Zigler, our on site physician and the greatest healer to ever walk our halls.” That was comforting, making me smile. “Thanks you so much for this opportunity.” I said, meaning my words. Everything I had done had lead to this moment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter that hints at what's to come. I still have 11 segments pre-written and ready to post; but I will leave it here until I know people want to read more.
> 
> [[REVISED 17-03-2017]]

As I am drawn from my sleep, something doesn't feel right. I feel disoriented in my own skin, as if my body isn't my own. My green blue eyes snap open as something touches my face! What i see makes my heart stop and my stomach implode. Oh dear god no, not again. To my horror, Reaper is standing over my bed, a clawed glove tenderly stroking my cheek. I am confused by this, the ominous monster who hides himself behind a mask and gleefully slaughters others… is touching my face so gently.  
My copper brows furrow in confusion, still groggy from sleep, the dull hum of my headache ever present. He chuckles at my perplexed expression, sending a chill shooting down my spine. He hooks a clawed finger below my chin to make me stare into the now glowing red eyes of his mask; the pressure hard enough to coax me to look without injuring me, but not allowing the option to look away.  
“I’m coming back for you, víbora…” His voice taunts, the blatant threat also a promise. I can feel it in my bones. He will be coming back for me eventually, and when he does… he'd get what he came for.  
My eyes flicker to my nightstand, seeing my fully charged whip resting there. Did I dare? He can easily kill me now...but… Talon wants me alive, and as much as I know Reaper would probably get off from killing me in my own bed, he wouldn't risk failing his mission. Without any further hesitation, my hand dives for my whip, seeming to surprise this specter of death as I lash out, not bothering to turn it on. But as the whip would have made contact… he is gone. My whip strikes the dresser with a loud ‘Crack!’. Seeing him suddenly gone makes me panic, feeling like I am in a nightmare that I can't wake up from. Where did he go? Is he hiding? Did he escape again… or had he even there to begin with?  
Suddenly, my door shoots open, a panicked Lena bolting in, her chronal accelerator glowing a soft blue as she flicks on the light switch, single pulse pistol in hand. Seeing me alone, whip in hand, attacking my dresser probably doesn't look good on my part in terms of sanity.  
“Is everything okay, love?” she asks in a soft, soothing voice.  
“Yeah… sorry for waking you, Lena.” I say, sitting up fully as I recoil my whip, cheeks flushed. Lena’s room is right across the hall from mine, and she is a very light sleeper. The sweet brit moves to my side, perching on the edge of my bed.  
“Having nightmares?” She asks, being gentle and kind with me, like I was a child… and I suppose I am in her eyes, considering our age differences. Tracer, ever stuck at the age of 26, was much older in terms of years then myself. I go with what she says, nodding.  
“It's alright love, we've got your back. No one will take you away from us.” I look at her in shock. How did she know about my nightmare? My quizzical look makes Lena giggle, only a little.  
“After what happened to you, I would have nightmares too.” She says knowingly. Patting my leg, she stands up, straightening her union jack boxer shorts, the only other thing she's wearing being her sports bra. “Try to get some more sleep, Loura, and let Angela know if your nightmares continue, okay?” I stare at her momentarily and then smile.  
“I will, thanks.” I say, and then Tracer leaves, happy with my response. However, falling back to sleep isn't as easy as she made it seem. I lay awake for what feels like hours before the shadows of slumber pull me back into the tender embrace of dreamlessness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [[REVISED 17-03-2017]]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment if you want more content!

When I wake up, I feel stiff, head throbbing painfully. With a groan, I shamble out of bed and fish out the pill bottle Dr.Zigler gave me off the floor with my abandoned clothing. I open the container and pop two pills into my mouth, swallowing them dry.  
Groggy still, I go to my small cubicle of a bathroom and freshen up, splashing cold water in my face and then brush out my hair before tying it back. Looking at myself in the mirror, I frown. I feel weird, looking at myself like this… but the person in the mirror looks like a cheap imitation of myself. Their hair doesn't have its usual shine, and the eyes have dark rings surrounding them, as if I hadn't slept at all. I don't feel like I had. With a sigh, I rub my eyes with a moist cloth and then freeze.  
I can feel it. The shotgun. It is against my neck again. It isn't a ghost feeling anymore. It is real.  
Slowly, I lower my hands and discover that he is there again. Reaper. His expressionless, frigid white mask almost glowing in the illumination of my fluorescent bathroom light, shotgun pressed to the back of my head again. His chuckle is low and rumbling, sending shivers down my spine . I stay still, bracing my hands on the sink.  
“I said I'd be back for you, mi víbora. Come quietly and no one else has to die.” I can tell by his tone of voice he is lying; he loved killing too much… did I dare lash out? Talon wanted me alive, so… Hell yes.  
“Go back to hell!” I shout, spinning around and aiming my fist to deck him right in his stupid masked face. However, my fist would connect with not the mask or the leather of his hood, but my bathroom wall, putting a hole in it. Thank god I didn't hit a stud!  
With a grunt, I pull my fist from the drywall, looking around. Just like last night, he is gone without a trace. I turn to the sink again, rinsing the debris off my pale freckled skin, watching the dust wash down the drain. Fortunately no one burst into my room this time. Thinking, I decide I have to go see Torbjörn as soon as possible… find out if I’m hallucinating, or if I’m actually being harassed.  
Quick as the whip I wield, I put on the rest of my gear and head for Torbjörn’s shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally managed to revise all the writing to be more appealing. Now that that's done, I'll be proof reading everything before posting! I had posted the first 7 sections in a fever, and had forgotten to proof-read. Sorry! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but more is on the way!

“Ah, Loura! Is your charger acting up again?” The jolly Swedish dwarf declares, having been tinkering away before I walked in. I smile to him, sitting down on one of the stools in his workshop. Torbjörn had designed my whip, a very great utility weapon that allows me to both disarm with a good flick of my wrist, and electrocute like a taser with the flick of a switch.  
“No, the new charger works like a dream, thanks. I'm actually looking for another kind of help.” I say, fingers needing the handle of my whip.  
“Oh? And what might that be?” He asks, curiosity gleaming in his eye. Torbjörn is always so nice to people who help him test his contraptions.  
“Call me paranoid, but can you install cameras in my bedroom?” I flush a little, realizing how weird the request is, but I am not going to back down. But Torbjörn only chuckles, patting my knee in a way that made me feel fragile. Everyone has been more.. I don’t even know the right word to describe it, but the constant patting is getting a bit much.  
“Being paranoid keeps you alive. I'll have it done by tonight.” The kind man says, making me smile.  
“Thanks Torbjörn. If you ever need me to test anything, don't hesitate to as-”  
“Well in that case!” Torbjörn intercepts, eagerly moving to a workbench full of contraptions. He gleefully digs through his pile of inventions, and finding what he was looking for, he holds up a small pistol, so tiny it would fit in the palm of my hand. He proudly hands it to me, and I look it over, brows furrowing with concern. The trigger is the only thing about it that is relatively normal sized; but the barrel was so small and narrow; it looks like it shoots pencil leads!  
“My latest creation. It's still in progress,but once it's done, it'll allow us to track our enemies back to their bases. I know you don't like firearms as much as a whip, but this, when used right, will provide us with a micro tracker, no bigger than a flea, on our enemies; giving us a strong tactical advantage. Try it out when you get the chance, and report to me whom you hit.” I can’t help but smile from ear to ear. This could be so useful if there is another attack!  
“Gladly.” I tuck it into my pocket, and smile, glad to help test it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a big chapter to make up for the short one! <3

“Hey there partner! Glad to see you’re out and about already.” I had just left Torbjörn’s workshop and was on my way to breakfast when McCree spotted me. “Whoa there, what's up with the full gear so early in the morning?” He asks me curiously. I usually lounged in sweats till noon on off days; and even after that I only wear what I wore to bed the previous night. I give Jesse a friendly smile before answering.  
“Can you blame me after last time? I was nearly abducted, and four others were. If they try to come back for anyone else… I want to be ready to fight back.” There is an awkward silence between us, before Jesse slinks an arm over my shoulders, a sly grin on his face.  
“Well aren't you a smart cookie.” He says, giving my bare shoulder a light squeeze. I seriously need to tell everyone to stop doing that, eventually. It might become an annoying habit at this rate! Still, I smile softly. Everyone is just trying to be supportive, so a little longer won’t be too bad to endure this, right?   
“You know I was checking on you before I found you leaving Torbjörn’s workshop. Got in a mighty panic when I saw the hole you put in the bathroom wall.” I stop walking, staring at the ground. “I'm not gonna pry, darlin’, but you know you can talk to me, right?”  
“Right.”  
Once I arrive in the dining hall, it's like nothing happened at all… sure, there was a few less people for obvious reasons, but it's like the other day had never happened. It kind of bothers me, but I don't show it, moving over to the buffet and grab a hearty breakfast of eggs, whole grain toast with butter, Greek yogurt, berries, and a huge mug of coffee, black. I loathe the bitterness of coffee, but after last night and this morning.. I am going to need it to stay alert until I know what the hell is going on. McCree grabs his breakfast and joins me at our usual table soon after. He frowns, looking at my tray, particularly the coffee.   
“I know I said I wouldn't pry, but… you sure you're feeling okay?”  
“I'm fine… I just didn't sleep well because of my headache, and I don't want to become unalert.”  
“Ah. Maybe Angela can give you a sleeping aid as well?” He muses, digging into his breakfast. I glare daggers at him before picking up the coffee. Like hell I’ll take a sleeping aid! I already sleep like a damn rock most of the time.  
“Coffee should do just fine.” I retort, before bringing the steaming cup to my lips and scrunch my nose as I take a big gulp. Yuck! Jesse chuckles, drinking his coffee in one swig; while I could only gulp down a mouthful. I put the mug down, deciding it will be best to drink it slowly and get used to the taste. However, just as I let go of the mug to reach for my fork and wash the taste down with heavenly breakfast, Jesse snags it and grins, drinking mine too!  
“Hey!” I exclaim, pouting.  
“Oh don't give me that face. You and I both know you don't like the taste of black coffee, let alone coffee in general, so it would have gone to waste. Let me get you some coco.” I gape at him as he stands up and walks away with the mugs, no doubt intent on getting another mug of black coffee for himself and a coco for me, apparently.   
Grumbling, I eat my food, my free hand gently grazing that damn spot on the back of my neck. It is unnerving, still feeling the cold steel of the barrel pressing to my neck, an empty threat but still a threat nonetheless. How long will they keep trying to capture me alive? Would they eventually not care if I were maimed? Or what if… they just kill me for resisting?  
I am drawn from my thoughts by the heavenly smell of warm, creamy chocolate. I grin, gleefully accepting the mug of cocoa and take a big gulp, purging the lingering taste of coffee from my taste buds with a moan of appreciation.   
“Thanks, Jesse.” I say, grinning from ear to ear. Coco always makes things better.  
“My pleasure, little lady.” He says back with a grin, giving a tip of his goofy hat. I chuckle, enjoying the rest of my breakfast in peaceful tandem of chit chat and exchanging training stories. Blackwatch sounded so cool. Sure, they had done the dirty work, but it was necessary, and definitely seemed cooler than peacekeeping, which was pretty much all we do now a days. I may be a support; but had I been around back in the glory days of Overwatch’s prime, I would have wanted to be a part of Blackwatch.  
“Captain Reyes was always such a hard-ass, but once you got to know him, he was actually a really funny guy. He loved pulling pranks on the strike commander, and loved sparring with absolutely anyone.” Jesse says, reminiscing in the past. He didn’t have to say it, but it’s obvious Jesse longed for those days again, and misses his old boss. Captain Reyes definitely meant a lot to Jesse.  
“You know, I almost wasn’t a part of this organization at all.” He grins, sharing a bit more of his past. He loves only sharing tidbits. Like how he’d grown up in the deadlock gang, and then what he did when he became a part of Blackwatch, or how after the initial fall of Overwatch, he’d become a gun for hire until Recall happened. But he’s never told me specifically how he joined Blackwatch in the first place. I perk up, always one for a good story. “I’m all ears.”  
“Well, when Deadlock got taken down by Overwatch, Captain Morrison, ever the golden boy, interviewed everyone captured to offer a second chance. It was either be drafted into Blackwatch, or a life sentence. Now, we Deadlock members were fiercely loyal to one another, but I reckon of all of us, I was most of all. They were the only family I’d ever known, raised me into the life. When I was being interrogated and offered draft over prison, I was only 17. I was a rebel through and through, especially for a teenager. So when Captain Morrison offered… I broke his damn nose with a well placed headbutt. He had underestimated me because I was a kid, cuffed in a chair. Wish you coulda seen his face, Darlin’. It was poetry, watching his golden boy nice guy face wash away in rage as blood spurt from his nose. He left right after that, and even behind the doors, I could hear his shouting so angrily. I knew I was going to prison for good, but I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at how easily he could be broken outta the good cop act. After a while though, the shouting stopped and the door opened again. I waited, knowing who was coming next. The bad cop.” He takes a sip of his coffee, noticing that I am no longer the only one listening. The story has drawn in other Recall agents, as well as Tracer and Soldier 76, all listening keenly; well, except 76. He was sort of lurking, arms crossed. His damn mask hides his expressions well. Jesse continues.  
“I remember it like it was yesterday. The door closing behind him, the tap of his boots on the tiled floors. His first words when he saw me. He was so surprised I was just a kid. When he said that, I, being the rebellious teen I was, lashed out, not taking to kindly to being called a kid. To my surprise, Reyes lost his mind, laughing so hard. He couldn’t believe a young punk had gotten Jack all riled up. After he had a good laugh, he was level with me. He didn’t embellish, didn’t threaten. Just told me the truth. I respected that. The most vivid thing I remember asking was ‘What did he care?’ and to my surprise, he grinned. He didn’t, but he had $20 bucks against Jack that he could convince me to accept the draft. Now, me, being the shit-disturber I was, chuckled, and said I’d join. Just so my new boss could rub it in golden boy’s face. I was grinning for days after that, knowing I’d pulled another fast one on the great Jack Morrison.” He gives me a wink before drinking his coffee, and everyone, myself included are dumbfounded. Even Soldier 76 looks surprised in his own, unreadable way. “And that's the story of how I got my ‘BAMF’ belt buckle. Reyes bought it for me with the $20 Jack forked over.”  
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, grinning from ear to ear. Of course Jesse would do that. It sounded just like him… and though I’d never gotten the chance to meet Captain Reyes, since he perished in the fall of Overwatch along with Commander Morrison, I know I would have liked him too. Jesse’s eyes always seem to shine when he talks about him, fond of him to this day, even after the bad publicity. Once the story ends, most wander back to their own tables, with only 76 lingering a little longer than the others.   
Finishing my breakfast, I wait for Jesse to finish, wanting to follow my usual routine. However, Jesse frowns.  
“We ain’t sparin’ today, Viper. Not until doc says you're good to go.” McCree says, reading my mind. I scoff, crossing my arms. “I was knocked out and I have a headache. It’s not like I have a skull fracture or a concussion. I’m fine.” I retort.  
“You just woke up yesterday, Loura. Give it another couple days.” He says back, finishing his breakfast.   
“What are you, chicken?!” I challenge, and I see a glint in his eyes. A fire of excitement. Jesse didn’t back down easily from challenges. But the flame would damper down quickly. “No. You need to rest and get back into commission before I’ll spar with you again.” I can’t help but glare, upset. I love sparring, so did he. It was our thing! “I feel fine!” I exclaim, even though I’ve already lost. All Jesse does is shake his head, sticking to his guns. With a huff, I stand, picking up my breakfast tray to dispose of. I hear Jesse curse behind me as I walk away rapidly, but I don’t care. I am irrationally mad. I am just fine! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Placing my tray on the dishes disposal belt, I move to leave, hearing Jesse call after me to hold up. I don’t. Petty, but a good spar is what I need right now. If he won’t spar, then I’ll do the next best thing. I quickly enter the women’s change room, ignoring everyone within and detour straight into the gymnasium. I only spend a few moments stretching before I begin jogging around the massive room; as big as an american football field. As I jog, my mind wanders to the thoughts that have been sitting on the back-burner of my mind.  
What should I do? If Reaper actually came, should I go with him? Endure the torture so no one else has to die… maybe it will kill me? Then no one has to die for me but me. It’s a dark, depressing thought, but.. thinking of everyone, my friends and allies… the 18 people killed and the 30 injured in the attack… But, if I do go with him, it'd be giving the enemy what they want. And Jesse. The way he'd talked when he recalled what happened to me… my jogging increases to a run. My mind goes into darker and darker thoughts, and I can hear the low rumbling chuckle in my head. What if Jesse had died trying to save me? How would I have lived with myself?  
I run so hard I trip over my own feet, fumbling, and scraping my elbows on the hardwood floors. With a groan, I get back up, brushing myself off as McCree jogs over, having apparently been keeping an eye on me.   
“You alright darlin’?” He asks, looking more concerned now.   
“Peachy,” I say with a hint of venom lacing my words, not making eye contact, “I was just thinking things over, you know? Must have got so distracted I tripped over my own boots.” My excuse, however, didn't amuse Jesse.  
“Alright. We need to talk Missy. Come on.” He says and then takes my hand in his right one, pulling me along. Great. He said he wouldn't pry, and now he is!  
“Come on Jesse, I'm fine!” I back talk, but he doesn't say a word, dragging me all the way to my room… well at least it will be a private conversation. As I enter the room, mostly unwilling, I notice the new cameras in all the corners, leaving no blind spots. Torbjörn sure works fast. Jesse closes the door and locks it, before pointing to the cameras.  
“You know I can't stand by seeing all this. You punched a hole in your bathroom wall, you're wearing your gear everywhere, you tried drinking black coffee this morning, and you're on such a short fuse, your set to blow! And now this?! Cameras in your room? Talk to me Loura! I want to help you!” He is practically yelling in my face in his frustration, and I feel a bit bad for making him so riled up, but I couldn't help but get angry back. I feel my hands get hot as I begin to shout back. “Stop acting like we're blood, Jesse!” I spat back, and he recoils. It’ as if I'd slapped him in the face. Hard. He looks so wounded. I backpedal fast, but the damage is already done.  
“I-I’m sorry Jesse… I-”   
“Shut it.”   
I fall painfully quiet, looking down. I hear the very soft tap of his shoes as he walks towards me. I back up a bit, bumping into the wall. I wait, wondering what he will do. He stops when the toes of his boots touch mine, and then he leans in really close, so that he was whispering in my ear. What he says though is terrifying.  
“I may not be blood, Loura... but I care about you more then you will ever know. Like you, I don't have any blood relatives left out there… and you're the closest thing I've had since the Fall. Like it or not, I'm gonna keep lovin’ and carin’ about you until I kick the bucket.” I shiver at his words, not sure how to take them. He is so.. intense… and the way he said ‘Lovin’ ’ felt emphasized. I don't know what to say or do. No one's cared about me like this before. Thinking of something, all I can muster is a “Thank you.” in my head, but as I turn my head up to say the words with eye contact, so he could see I was being sincere, Jesse McCree kisses me full on the mouth. It was a kiss that tasted of coffee, cloves, and something else, something more primal. I am so shocked I gasp, not even kissing back, and before I can even try, he pulls back, grinning from ear to ear.   
“You have no idea how long I wanted to do that, sugar…” I flush and smile a little, feeling extremely flattered… but then my bashfulness turns into terror as Jesse morphs into Reaper right before my very eyes. My green blue eyes go as wide as dinner plates, something in my head snapping. A low rumbling laugh emanates from behind the mask in front of me as he tauntingly says “Mi víbora”. I hold up my arms in front of my face to shield myself, sinking against the wall to the ground in horror and scream at the top of my lungs. The rumbling laugh continues above my head, and I feel like I am being crushed. My bedroom door bursts open then, several people rushing in, but I don't care, I keep screaming. After a few seconds, people are trying to restrain me, but I struggle viciously. It's only when I hear Mercy’s soothing voice do I stop, looking around to see not Reaper, but McCree, Torbjörn, Reinhart, Mercy, and several other Recall members standing in my room, staring at me, concerned.   
I hug my knees to my chest and shake, eyes darting around. He was everywhere, somehow… where would he pop up next?!  
“Loura... Reinhart and I are going to bring you to my office for examination..” Angela says softly, as if speaking to a scared child… and in their eyes, I really am. “Can you stand?”  
I shakily nod, and Reinhart offers a hand. I accept it and the two help me out of the room, someone putting a blanket over my shoulders, murmurs swirling around me as we exit the room. I walk slowly, eyes downcast, feeling afraid and ashamed. Was I truly going mad?  
“What's happening to me..?” I whisper, but if anyone heard me, they don't answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Jesse told is directly taken from the below video, because it was just so perfect, I couldn't help but have it as head cannon in my fic!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_DpEvlyJko


	10. Chapter 10

Once Mercy and Reinhard safely get me to her office, they have me sit in a comfortable armchair. Mercy would sit down in a similar chair across from me, Reinhart standing beside her, the kindhearted old man giving me a gentle smile.   
“Now that we’re somewhere quiet… can you please tell me what’s happening to you?” Dr.Zigler asks, pen and clipboard ready. I take a few breaths before pulling my legs to my chest, hugging the blanket around myself and answer her.  
“Since I woke up…. I’ve been having this hallucination…. That Reaper came back to finish what he’d started in the attack.” Dr.Zigler looks mildly alarmed, jotting something down.   
“And… when did these hallucinations occur?” And I tell her almost everything, every moment leading up to hallucination. I tell her about how I woke up to find him, how he appeared behind me in my washroom, how I could hear his taunting laugh when I was thinking of what I would do if Talon came back; though I don’t tell them what I would do if they did come back, much to their concern… and then how Jesse, after the two of us argued and then he kissed me… and how I saw him transform before my eyes into Reaper. “...And that’s when you guys found me…. Screaming like a nut job. Am I…. losing my mind?” I ask, having shaken through the entire duration of the retelling, having to pause at points.   
“This is very strange, Loura. There does not seem to be any trigger or direct correlation between the appearances. This may be more than a simple case of PTSD… Would you mind if I revise my examination? I would like to perform blood work and an x-ray on your body.” I nod, wanting to get the to bottom of this.  
Mercy smiles and moves about to get her needles ready. It doesn't take her long, and I don't even flinch as she draws three small sample vials. She puts a cotton ball with medical tape at the point of entry when she is done.  
“Is it alright if I leave you with Reinhart so I can get these samples tested and get the x-ray lab ready for you?” I nod again, a lump in my throat. Mercy gives me a warm smile, and I watch her stand up and leave. I look to Reinhart, and he plops down in Angela’s now vacant seat. “Don’t worry, my friend, I will protect you.”   
“But… you can’t protect me from what’s not really there…” I begin, but he gives a hearty laugh.   
“I can try.” He says with a smile, which looks very charming on his elderly face. But as I begin to relax, I hear his voice, and look around in a panic, not locating him this time.   
“They can’t help you, mi víbora… No one there can You must join us.” His voice taunts in my ears, playing head games. I begin to hyperventilate, feeling the shotgun against my neck and the gentle caress of his glove on my face. I can see Reinhart’s concern, looking where I look, trying to see what I might be seeing and help me. He laughs right in my ear, and as my head snaps in the direction of the chuckle, I swear I see a whiff of black mist. “Vendré a buscarte pronto, víbora.” Reaper whispers, making knots tie in my stomach, not understanding the words, but knew it couldn’t be good. His voice is both threatening and sensual somehow, increasing my fear of the man. Reinhart looks up as Mercy enters the room again. “Let us get you checked.” She offers me a hand, but I stand on my own, following her quietly, Reaper seeming to be gone once more.


	11. Chapter 11

“Please remove any metal on your person.” Dr.Zigler says, and I can’t help but look around nervously.   
“It’s alright. Reinhart and I are right beside you… We won’t let anyone get to you.” She retorts, and I sigh, knowing I can trust her, despite my current mental insecurity. I reluctantly remove everything down to my socks, shorts and turtleneck tank top. I climb up onto the table and lay back, trying to relax. Mercy gives my hand a light squeeze, before pushing the table into the machine. The x-ray would begin, starting from my toes and working it's way up. It takes about 20 minutes for the full body scan to be complete. Once I am let out of the machine, I put everything back on, excluding the blanket.  
“It will take a few minutes for me to examine the x-rays; and if I don't find anything in those or the blood work, we will require further testing. Why don't you wait with Reinhart in the waiting area?”  
“Alright… and doc? Thanks.”  
“It's my duty and pleasure.” She gives me a warm smile as I follow the hulking German man out into the waiting area. To my surprise, both McCree and S76 are waiting there for me to come out. I can’t help but flush at seeing Jesse, feeling embarrassed for freaking out like I did, after he kissed me.  
“Hey kid.” Soldier 76 starts, surprising me. He waits until I am sitting in one of the chairs to continue. “Want to tell me what happened?” He crouches in front of me, as if to talk eye to eye… with his visor on.  
“I… don't know yet.” I say, averting my eyes. Reinhart has my back, putting a firm hand on S76’s shoulder. 76 sighs, but stands up and leaves. I would need to tell him later, he doesn’t like being out of the loop when it comes to the well-being of us fellow agents. Jesse approaches next, but Reinhart once again stops any approach.   
“Let the poor mädchen rest.” He demands.  
“She's my field partner, and I'm worried about her.” McCree retorts.  
“I have orders from Dr.Zig-” I cut off Reinhart there, glad for the old German's help, but I don’t need to be totally bubble wrapped.  
“It's fine… let Jesse talk to me.” Reinhart looks at me with soft eyes and nods, stepping aside. He treats all the women like they are his daughters.. well, except Ana. She is his queen.  
Jesse saunters over and crouches in front of me like 76 had. I smile a little, arms crossing.  
“I must have scared you good, huh?” I ask, breaking what may have been an awkward silence brewing between us. That makes him grin, relief on his face.  
“Darn tootin’ ya did, Viper!” He leans forward to get closer, and I pull back a little. He frowns.   
“Wanna tell me what happened?” He asks in a low, concerned voice.  
“I will later… after Angela finishes her testing.” I once again avert my eyes, hearing Reaper’s voice as I do.   
“They can't protect you from me, mi víbor. Staying will only make you worse.” He coos in his eerie voice. What does he mean it will get worse? I shiver, and nearly scream as McCree pokes my knee, startling the daylights out of me.  
“Earth to Loura. Angie has your results.” He gives me a warm, glittering smile and I see Dr.Zigler waiting at her office door, her expression unreadable. I get up, and walk past Jesse and Reinhart, eager to get rid of the voice in my head.


	12. Chapter 12

“I have good news and bad news.”   
I am back in Angela’s office, in the same chair where I had been in the first place.  
“What's the good news?” I ask, twirling my thumbs in anxiety.  
“Your blood results returned normal, though your iron levels are a little low; nothing a diet adjustment can't fix. That means we can rule out any long lasting drugs or ingested hallucinogens.” I must look worried, because she reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a light squeeze.  
“The bad news is, I found the source of the hallucinations.” I squeeze her hand back.  
“Don't hold back… tell me the truth.”  
“It's some sort of microchip embedded in between your spinal columns, connected to your nerve system. I'm not entirely sure as to how it works, or how it even got there, as I've never seen or handled one before, but if my theory is correct, this chip is somehow transmitting neurological signals to your brain through the nerves in your spine, inducing the hallucinations… and I am unable to remove the device without risking paralyzing you.” My heart drops to the depths of hell as I begin to shake.   
“So I'm fucked.” I state, voice deadpan. I feel so trapped. Does that mean that I’ll have Reaper’s voice in my head for the rest of my life?  
“I will do everything I can to figure this out. I've already called Winston for a second opinion; as he would most likely know more about how this microchip works. In the meantime, I am going to request that you stay with other agents at all times until we can find a solution to these transmissions.”   
“I appreciate all your help and concern Dr.Zigler… but isn’t that a bit much? Now that I know what is happening to me; I can just ignore the transmissions, right?” Angela frowns, shaking her head in disbelief.  
“It’s not that simple; just because you have your mind stable now doesn't mean the transmissions can’t affect your mental state.” She is referring to why I was brought back to her office in the first place today, but still it feels ludicrous.   
“Can I use a pager then? Just press a button, and you’ll know something's wrong?” I plead, wanting some sort of normality in my life back. Nothing’s been the same for me since the attack! Mercy must see that in my green blue eyes, because she sighs and moves to her desk.  
“Very well, I’ll allow this, but your pager will connected to two others. I will carry one, and the other McCree will carry, considering he is your field partner. Agreed?”   
“Gladly! Thank you so much. I hate this.” I express, rubbing the back of my neck where the ghost barrel is, and apparently a microchip as well.  
“I know, but we will get this fixed as soon as possible, and then you can go back to running missions with McCree.” She withdraws three pagers from her desk, and tunes them to one another. Satisfied after a quick test, she gives me one, and then heads for the door, clipping her own to her lab coat. I clip mine to my utility belt, before standing up to follow her out.  
Mercy holds the door open for me, and then continues to the waiting room. There we find McCree still waiting for me. My heart flutters a little when I see him now, especially since I now know the meaning behind his stunning smile.   
“So what’s the verdict?” He asks, meeting us halfway. Mercy explains the situation and gives him a pager, which he clips right beside his ‘BAMF’ belt buckle.  
“Those rat bastards. We’ll get them back for messing with your pretty little head, Missy.” He declares, slinging an arm over my shoulders. My cheeks felt warm again, thinking about how his lips had felt. So rough in texture, and yet so smooth.  
“Come on, McCree. The day’s still young, and I think it’s about time we get a good spar in.” I say with a clever grin, making him chuckle.  
“Right you are, Loura, right you are.” His arm moves to rest around my waist, and then we begin to walk together after a quick goodbye to our good doctor Angela. We walk quickly, but then I decide to take a detour. Instead of heading for the gym, I head for my room. Jesse looks confused, but doesn’t question it yet. He only does as we round the corner to my hallway.  
“So uh, Loura? Why are we headin’ to your room? I thought you wanted to spar?” he questions as we approach the door.  
“I do, but first we need to talk.”   
“Talk?”   
“About us.” I clarify, opening the door to my room. I sneak a glance back at him as I take his human hand and pull him into the room. Oh yeah, he definitely can’t handle being on the receiving end of stuff like this. I move into my room and flop down onto my bed, stretching, the hem of my shirt hiking up to expose my navel. Today has been such a long day already, and according to the desk clock, it is only 3 in the afternoon!  
“So, uh… what’d you wanna talk about?”  
“Well, you did kiss me without any warning, so we definitely need to talk about that.”   
“True… and now I know it wasn't my fault you’d been screaming bloody murder.” He chuckles, flopping down on the bed beside me, arms tucked under his head.  
“So… how long have you liked me?” I ask, not wanting to beat around the bush. That wasn’t my style. Jesse chuckles.  
“Honestly, darlin’? Since the day I met ya. You had this look in your eyes that made me eager to get to know you.” I glance over, but then smile softly. He has his hat over his eyes.  
“That was my first kiss, you kno-”  
“Say what?!” He bolts up, looking alarmed. I flail, surprised by his wild reaction. He leans on his side, so his chest is nearly pressed to my side.  
“Uh… Yeah? I kind of spent my entire life dedicated and focused on becoming a part of Overwatch… so I kind of didn’t have time for a relationship.”   
“Bloody hell..” he mutters, a dark glint filling his coffee colored eyes. It is a look I recognize now as a look of desire, and makes my face hot. He leans closer, looking like he did just before he kissed me. Panicking, I press a hand to his shoulder, slowing him down.  
“Whoa there, cowboy. This is what I want to talk about…” I smile timidly, and the look in his eyes only darkened.  
“Alright then, little lady. You best start talking then…” His voice sounds low and husky, and the look in his eyes is like a wolf eyeing a lamb, making me squirm.  
“Well… if there is going to be an us… we have to take this slow, okay? You stole my first kiss, and if you want anymore, then you gotta play by my rules.”   
“I can’t promise I can… not with you looking like you do all the time.”  
“Looking like I do?” I question.  
“Yeah. Perfect.” He teases, grinning from ear to ear. I flush darker, but before I can retort, his voice comes back.  
“He can’t protect you forever, mi víbora.” my hand moves from his chest and reaches for the pager, keeping eye contact with Jesse, afraid to look somewhere else.  
“If he tries again, I won’t hesitate to kill him next time.” My hand stops, and Jesse looks confused. I smile and gently touch his face.  
“I need a bit of time by myself Jesse… I’ll keep my pager, on hand.” I say, quickly standing and crossing the room. I pull the door open, and wait. Jesse looks very confused, but I need to figure something out. He wearily gets off my bed and exits, respecting my wishes like the gentleman he is.   
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks once he crosses the threshold of my door.  
“I’m fine, Jesse. I just need some alone time to think things over.”   
“Well… just holler if you need me, okay?”   
“Okay.” And then I close the door. Turning slowly, I look to the form of Reaper sitting on my bed, where Jesse had been moments before. I stare, slowly approaching.   
“This… isn’t just neurotransmitted hallucinations… is it?” I ask, mostly to myself. I nearly jumped out of my own skin as he chuckles, responding.  
“Si señora… the chip also acts as a communicator.” He says in his eerie voice.  
“So... I’m acting like a camera?”  
“More like an audio recorder.” he retorts.  
“And you’re telling me this, why?” I ask as I move into the bathroom to take a shower, slightly comforted by the fact that he could only hear, but feeling the urge to roughly scrub my skin raw, feeling filthy. I take off my gear and clothes and then turn on the showerhead. However, his words chill me to my core.  
“Your colleagues won’t trust you now.” How did he..? “You had Torbjorn install cameras in your room. The camera will show you talking to McCree, then freezing up, kicking him out, and then talking to an invisible person, saying you were acting like a camera.”   
“Oh god….”I feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach. “Why are you doing this?!” I yell out, angrily getting into the ice cold shower.  
“Because we need you on our side, víbora. Your skills are being wasted with them.” Reaper growls, the silhouette of his form standing outside of the shower curtain.  
“I’d rather that then be a terrorist.” I hiss back, angrily washing my hair and body. He chuckles, seeming less threatening now. He is just a voice and visual in my head. He isn’t actually there.  
“Better a terrorist then doing the bidding of the corrupt.” He retorts back.  
“What do you mean?” I ask softly, my brows furrowing at his response.  
“Don’t you wonder where your payroll comes from? Why you're constantly protecting political figures all the time rather than helping the people you vowed to protect? Did it never occur that a few deaths is important for the greater good?” I turn off the water and grab my towel, wrapping myself in it before stepping out and attempting to walk through the visage of Reaper, trying to ignore him altogether… only to bump into him. I gasp, and nearly fall back, a clawed glove wrapping around my waist, catching my balance. The feeling is strange, being in a towel, with Reaper’s arm around my waist.   
“What the…”   
“The transmitter. The readings said you lost your balance, so I returned a signal to help you keep your balance.”   
“Then how did I bump into you?”   
“It’s in your head, mi víbora. The transmitter makes it seem like I’m actually there.” He coos, letting go once I regain my balance. I glare at the visage before walking past him and moving to brush my thick auburn curls. He moves to stand behind me, once again pushing a shotgun to my head.  
“I can’t decide if I should attempt to bring you back with me next time, or simply kill you slow and devour your soul. What do you think, víbora?” He threatens, but all I can do is roll my green blue eyes. He seems so moody!  
“I don’t fear death,” I lie, “better death than be a terrorist.”   
“Am I really the terrorist, when you’re the one protecting the corrupt?” I pause for a moment, but simply shake my head.  
“What did you mean, you wouldn’t hesitate next time?” I ask, changing the subject.  
He growls, raising his gloved hand.   
I let out a shriek, gripping the edge of the bathroom sink as claws rake down my back, tearing my flesh. I’s excruciating, like fire searing down my back, the sensation so shocking it steals my breath away. I pant for several seconds before looking around, confused. He is gone again. Turning, I look in the mirror, and find my back unharmed. This is disturbing news. He an also inflict pain on my person without even touching me. I feel very vulnerable by this information. There HAS to be a way to get rid of this chip!  
Shakily, I exit the bathroom, and there he is again, standing in the middle of the room, shotguns in hand.   
“Don’t make me angry, víbora.” He hisses, visibly vibrating with anger.  
“Fuck you, Reaper.” I hiss back, getting dressed in my pajamas; a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a loose fitting tank top.  
“Víbora..” He says in a harsh tone.  
“And what the fuck does that even mean?! I don’t speak spanish!” I yell, grabbing my whip as if to threaten him; not that it would do any good since he isn't really there… But it makes me feel better. However, all he does is chuckle at me.  
“Does it matter? I’m going to keep visiting and tormenting you until you give yourself to Talon. Maybe then I’ll tell you.”  
“I’ll never join you!” I yell, surprised no one has come into my room yet.  
“You will… and when you do, all you have to do is open your window.” And then he is gone. I can’t help but look to my bedroom window, a feeling of dread overwhelming me…. All I had to do was open that window, and somehow they'd take me to Talon headquarters? I can’t even relax enough to sleep for several hours after this, eyes looking at my window like it's a coiled snake, waiting to strike.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another flash back, because I love them.

The endurance course. Done once a week for the 32 weeks of training to become a full fledged agent. My resume may have been accepted, but to become a functioning field agent, I had to survive the gritty, brutal, and exhausting training courses Soldier 76 had us doing. My hair had been tied back into a tight bun, and I’d been in standard recruit gear: Combat boots, wool socks, combat pants, PT shirt, and a beret with the Overwatch crest resting above my left eye. I had hated the endurance course; because Zarya was in charge of it, and she was not kind to those running late. My bunk mate had thought it would have been funny to hide my boots, so I was late.  
“You’re late, Sinclair!” She yells, everyone already half done their morning warm ups before the course. “A hundred push ups. Now.”   
I let out a groan, shooting my bunk-mate a glare before dropping and giving the bestial Russian woman the push ups she demanded; everyone else, on the other hand, jogged in place until I was done. Every time I was late; she tacked on an extra 25; this was the fourth time. Once I’m done and I’m given a few moments to stretch, we’re paired off in groups of four for the course. I, luckily, wasn’t in a group with my bunk-mate, so I at least had that going for me. This was not a fun course, and worse, was a speed course. I had to bring my A-Game if I wanted to get out of kitchen duty. Losing team had to hand wash everyone else’s dishes before they were even allowed to eat. Standing beside my comrades, I limbered up, waiting. Zarya had another agent beside her, holding a stopwatch for our group.  
“3, 2, 1, Go!” She shouts, and we were off, running at a good pace. We reach the first portion, the sheep dip; an ice cold vat of water, in which we have to shimmy through a completely submerged tunnel of water, only 6 feet long. One of my comrades goes first, and once they pop out the other side, another follows, the first reaching their hand in to help the rest of us. I was last. When it came to be my turn, I sucked in a deep breath, and went in, not hesitating. I shimmed as fast as I could, the weight of my water soaked clothes and the chill sinking in making it hard to move. As soon as I nearly get to my teammates hand, however, my shirt is snagged on something. I panic, reaching for their hand, pulling hard. They must have known something was up, because they climbed back in, grabbing my arm and yanked hard, pulling me through. My shirt tore in the back, but I didn’t have time to care; getting stuck like that had cost us precious seconds. Sloshing out of the vat, we are back on the dirt road, jogging in the water soaked gear. It doesn’t take too long to get warm again in the sun, but it was still hard work. A good kilometer later, there’s an 80 foot mud pit to slosh through. The waist deep mud is thick and feels like glue, and many a past recruits have lost their boots in this mud; but not me. Not this time at least. I had learned from my mistakes in the first week, and now my boots were so snug, they threatened to cut off circulation to my feet. The smell of earth and moss was so thick it was nauseating, but it didn’t stop us. Once out, it's back to jogging, mud falling from our clothes as we went. Final stretch, the tubes. Similar to the sheep dip, but longer and with a pocket of air in them; these tubes were about 40 feet long, and only high enough that my chin was still submerged. I crawled through as fast as I could, only getting a few bruises on my knees and a cobweb in the face. That cobweb had been there for weeks; and most shimmied under it; but I had forgotten that time. It feels like forever I’m in that tube. When I’m out. The first thing I did was get that blasted webbing off my face. My teammates were already out and waiting for me, but I didn’t waste time apologizing. Instead I ran past them, not wanting to hold them back anymore then I already had. We run, heads held high to the end a short 400 meters away. Zarya looks amused, and I felt my heart drop. Had we come in last? “34 minutes, 23 seconds. Not good, but not the worst. Go back to truck, and await your comrades.” I nearly screamed with glee, but I didn't risk more push-ups, instead beginning to jog to the truck with my comrades.  
“Sinclair.” Shit. I reluctantly jog back to the training commander.   
“Yes Ma’am?”   
“Your shirt. What happened to it?” She asks, arms crossed. She didn’t look amused anymore, and I swallowed a ball forming in my throat before answering.  
“There was a snag somewhere in the sheep dip; my shirt got caught inside.” I said, keeping my tone steady. I was so surprised by her reaction.  
“Are you okay?”   
“Yes Ma’am. My comrades pulled me out, resulting in the tare of my gear.” I answered quickly, standing at attention for the duration of our conversation.  
“Good. I will ensure your comrades are rewarded for their aid today, and the tubes will be inspected before next week's training. Now go.”  
“Yes Ma’am.” And I jogged back the way we had come, feeling a bit better about myself, and feeling less intimidated by our instructor.


	14. Chapter 14

I wake up to the sound of my alarm blaring. Huh. Usually I woke up long before my alarm. I feel really well rested, yawning and sitting up in my bed, surprised to find the sheet had been laying over my form perfectly. Normally it ends up on the floor or at the end of my bed. With a sigh, I start to climb out of bed, and freeze. The dark chuckle I was beginning to know so well echoed throughout my room, and there, standing in the corner, is Reaper again.  
“Buenos días, Víbora.” His voice oozes with cruelty, and I can feel ice running down my spine, as if something sharp and metal is trailing down it. “Did the sleeping belleza rest well?”   
I glare daggers at him as I get out of bed. His presence is getting annoyingly common now that I know the truth. “I really hate you.” I mutter, but he apparently hears this loud and clear, chuckling with amusement.   
“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges, starting a fire of anger in me. “I’m not actually here, I’m just a voice in your head, mi Víbora.” As he talked, I had gotten my hands on my whip and turned it on, the hum of electric static whirling in the air. I don’t say a word, continuing to glare. He seems amused by this, gliding over silently. “That won’t do much good against me. You, however…” His eerie voice trails off as his gauntlet covered hand clasps my wrists hard. I panic, beginning to struggle as he brought my free hand closer and closer to the whip itself, refusing to let the hand holding it let go.  
“The only way you’ll ever be able to lash out against me is if you come to us.” He hisses in my face, before forcing my hand to hold the bare whip, a choked shriek escaping my lips. And like that, he is gone, but the static shock forces my hands to remain where they were. The pain is nauseating, white spots filling my vision until the emergency shut off kicks in, turning off the electricity flow. I fall to my knees as my door opens, twitching as the electricity courses through my veins, hand pulsing in agony and teeth chattering violently. As I lurch to my side, someone catches me, shoving a cloth into my mouth, is if I may bite my own tongue.  
“It’s alright Sugar, I’ve got you.” McCree. I hear a faint beep, my body shaking. As the buzzing begins to wear off, my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, Mercy arrives with her Caduceus Staff, and soon, the warm, enveloping hum of the biotic stream surrounds my hand, helping the pain as it rapidly heals the electric burns.   
“You didn’t page us.” Angela scolds when she is done, and I look down in guilt. Had Torbjorn checked the footage yet? I hope not… I might end up in a containment cell if he does.  
“Then open the window, Vibora.” Reaper’s voice whispers as Angela speaks. “Care to tell me why?”   
“I-I thought I could handle it.” I murmur, not entirely a lie. Mercy sighs in disappointment.  
“If this happens again, I will have to put you under complete surveillance. I am trusting you to actually use the pager next time.” I look to her, surprised. She looks concerned and unsure of me, as if I were a ticking time bomb, and yet she is still trusting me? “Now, I have a field agent who returned last night after a mission with a large part of their leg burned off. If you’ll excuse me.” And as quick as she arrived, the busy bee doctor is gone once more, leaving me in Jesse’s arms.  
“Why didn’t you page us, sugar?” He asks in a low southern drawl.  
“I thought I could handle it.” I repeat, Reaper’s visage drifting around my room, inspecting it. My eyes trail him, watching, and Jesse must of noticed, clicking his tongue. “It’s happening right now, isn’t it?” I mutely nod, not wanting to say it out loud. McCree, on the other hand, has other ideas, clearing his throat and speaking in a louder tone.  
“You can’t have her, Muerte. She’s ours and we are going to keep her out of yours and Talon’s claws!” I look at him, startled. Was that.. Spanish? Jesse knew spanish? The visage looks annoyed by this, murmuring ‘Ingrate’ before dissolving with a promise to return. My eyes go back to Jesse, becoming more aware of my current position. I flush a little, pulling away and getting up. Jesse looks disappointed.  
“Thanks.” I say, moving to my dresser and pulling out a change of clothes.  
“ ‘Thanks’? Loura you don’t need to thank me.” He says, moving to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “We’re partners in crime.” His voice is low, making butterflies flutter in my gut as his chin scruff rubs my neck and jawline. He is way more touchy-feely now, since he’d kissed me.  
“McCree… “I begin, unsure of what I am going to say; only to lose any words that may have been forming as I start to feel the taloned glove stroking my face once more, and hear the low rumbling voice of him. “Do you like him, mi vibora? Perhaps I’ll torture him… make him suffer… a day for every hour you don’t give yourself up?” His words are threatening, but he is speaking in a similar tone to McCree.   
“Loura?” He asks, since I trailed off. Swallowing, I think of what to say.  
“If… If I am taken by Talon. Promise me something?”   
“Anything sugar.” He says, not seeming to sense the tense tone in my voice.  
“If they take me… don’t come after me.”  
“Like hell!” He says, holding me tighter. I wince a little, as the gunslinger is very strong.  
“It’s suicide to try. If I’m taken, I’ll do what I can to get away… and if I can’t…. If I become like Amile… Promise you’ll put a bullet between my eyes so I can’t hurt anyone.” As I continue, pressing my choice, he grew painfully silent. His grip grew tighter, to the point I began to worry he might break me like a twig, despite being rather fit and able bodied myself.  
“I’ll never let it happen.” He growls, startling me. Reaper laughs, whispering “We’ll see about that.” before disappearing for now.  
We stay like this for a very long time, until what feels like an eternity later, McCree loosens his grip enough to turn me around, kissing me softly on the brow. I stay still, like a deer in headlights. He smiles, tilting my chin up with his real hand.  
“If they take you, I’ll be your huckleberry and save you.” Before I can comment on how cheesy that is, he leans in and kisses me again, lips pressing against mine once more. I gasp, opening my mouth for him to deepen the kiss as he does. His tongue was so overpowering and warm, drawing a moan from my lips. As the sound vibrates against his lips, he pushes my back against the dresser, human hand moving to tangle itself in my auburn curls, while the other rested snuggle on my hip, the cool, metal thumb rubbing slow circles against it. I feel like I am drowning in fire, unable to breath, burning up, with no way of escape but total surrender, kissing him back with closed eyes. After what feels like hours of passionate, devouring kisses, Jesse finally pulls away, grinning like a wolf in sheep's clothing, my lips tingling and swollen.  
“You should get dressed and ready for the day… I have deployment this afternoon; and I might not be back until tomorrow night.” He then gives one last kiss to my brows before retreating, the look on his face and in his eyes saying he had wanted to do so much more with me just now, but had restrained himself because he knew I wanted to take things slow. I flush dark and smiled, now alone in my room, but the remaining warmth from his body against mine making it feel like he is still there with me.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Awkward, mixed messages fluff inbound!

The morning went by quickly after that. Before I knew it, Jesse was already gone, and I have the day to myself. I went to the agent lounge, relaxed and watched some old movies, grabbed a few books, and generally just enjoyed myself. Oddly, there wasn’t a peep from Reaper either. It was so strange.  
I turn the pages of the action-horror novella I had picked up in the lounge, a blanket wrapped around my legs as I once more sat in my room alone. I don’t really hang out with anyone but Jesse, so now I am getting in some much needed alone time.   
The novella is about a girl in college with her three best friends as roommates; the main character having a psychotic-level possessive boyfriend who will kill anyone he thinks is hitting on his girl; the plot being that the girls best friends look similar to her in stature and hair color, leading to stab happy fun.  
Finishing the old novella, I sigh, wondering if I'll ever get my hands on part 2, since it came out in the 1960’s. Glancing at my desk clock, it's only 5 pm now. I could go for early dinner, or head to the gym; but after everything I've been through, I felt like being a bum and relaxing. I climb out of my comfy bed and stretch, the hem of the green silk night shirt slipping up; I had slipped into a pair of comfy silk pajamas when I decided I'd be lazy. I could read another book? Or maybe I could go out and get some fresh air? I'd been cooped up in the base for days now. Deciding fresh air is the best option, I slip on a pair of jeans so I'm decent, as well as socks, boots, and of course my belt, holding my whip at my hip as usual. As I open my door, however, for the first time today, the ghosting feeling of the shotgun against my skull returns. Ignoring it, however, I stroll out of my room and down the halls, thinking of where to go for some air. The courtyard is safe; but it feels contained, as if indoors still despite the open skies. There is also the various watchtower balconies; less secure than the courtyard, but definitely more open. I decide to take the safe route and head for the courtyard. As I go, I pass Mei, who is busily carrying a potted plant of some kind. It was a weird looking plant; but I felt a faint sense of nostalgia. Have I seen a plant like that before? Shaking my head from the odd, off focus thought, I enter the courtyard and look around. It is deserted. Perfect. I move to the far east corner and sit on a bench, breathing in a deep, satisfying breath of fresh air. I could stay here all day without a care in the world. It is so quiet, peaceful… so tranquil. I chuckle to myself, thinking of Zenyatta. I may not trust any omnics, but the word tranquil always brought him to mind.   
Humming to myself, I finally feel relaxed for the first time in days. I reach into a pouch on my belt, and take out this really old school MP3 player and corded earphones. Putting the relic of music software on, I hit play and grin, listening to a really old song, and belting out; not the best singer, but I was not tone deaf at least.  
“Here I stand, helpless and left for dead;  
Close your eyes, so many days go by;  
Easy to find what's wrong;  
Harder to find what's right;”  
As I sing, I can't help but mock ballroom dancing to this song, not caring who might see me. Something about the tune just makes me imagine a swirling masquerade of dancing, fast and elegant. I twirl with an invisible partner, twirling and stepping in time to the song. However, I almost think I hear another voice singing with me; but it could very well be my imagination.  
“I believe in you, I can show you that  
I can see right through all your empty lies  
I won't stay long, in this world so wrong.”  
As I focus, I begin to wonder… could a talon agents aside from Reaper access my chip? Maybe someone is singing with me? To my surprise though, the feeling of an unseen dancing partner begins to feel more real, my hand no longer hanging in the air, instead resting on an unseen shoulder, a hand resting on my back, pressing softly, and another clasping my own, leading me now. It is strange, and even terrifying, but also oddly comforting; considering all the other ghost touches I had experienced the past few days. I can't help but smile a little as I sing and dance with this invisible partner, who is definitely singing along too.  
“Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight.  
Don't you dare look at him in the eye  
As we dance with the devil tonight.”  
The next part of the song makes me shiver, thinking of Reaper… could he be dancing with me? It is odd, but something about him wasn't all that threatening; despite how much he terrifies me. It’s hard to explain.  
“Trembling, crawling across my skin  
Feeling your cold dead eyes  
Stealing the life of mine.  
I believe in you, I can show you that  
I can see right through all your empty lies  
I won't last long, in this world so wrong.  
Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight  
Don't you dare look at him in the eye  
As we dance with the devil tonight.”  
“Hold on” I sang, hearing the male repeat after me, “Hold on.”  
The unseen stranger and I dance through the music together, as if he were listening to the song too. And right on queue, they sing with me again.  
“Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight  
Don't you dare look at him in the eye  
As we dance with the devil tonight.  
Hold on, hold on.” I hum along with the music as the song and our dance comes to an end. However, as the last lyric, a simple word to end the song comes, my unseen partner confirms who he is, my heart jumping with shock as he whispers the word in my ear.  
“Goodbye….Víbora.” And then they are gone again. I stood there dumbfounded, standing alone in the middle of the courtyard, knees shaking a little. 

I had just ‘danced’ with Reaper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came to be because of the amazing song I used for it; I couldn't help but imagine Reaper with this song and had to include it! 
> 
> Song is: Breaking Benjamin - Dance With The Devil


	16. Chapter 16

It feels like forever until I could move again, so stunned by what had happened that I've listened to several other songs before I come to my senses. Reorienting myself, I move across the courtyard, and head in, bee-lining for my room. I don’t stop to talk to anyone, and no one even tries to talk to me; which if I’m being honest with myself, isn’t all that surprising. Word travels fast when someone is off their rocker.   
When I get into my room, I move to my small desk and sit down, needing to think within the total solitude of my room. What on earth just happened? Why had Reaper danced with me? I feel so confused; his moods seemed so… sporadic. One minute he's taunting and threatening me; the next he's singing, dancing, and borderline flirting with me? Can I risk asking flat out?   
I chew my lips, nervously thinking it over. He has been able to get signals that I was off balance and simulate helping keep my balance before… what other signals could he get? As the music plays in my ears, having never paused the MP3, an old song called “Seven Devils” by a group called Florence and the Machine plays, sending chills down my spine.  
“Reaper?” I ask aloud, my voice sounding timid. I clear my throat, and repeat myself, my voice strong and clear this time. I need answers.  
“Si, mi víbora?” His dark and looming voice echos through my head.   
“What does Talon want with me? Be honest.” He chuckles, and I feel cold metal claws gently rake across my throat in a silent threat, but it doesn't hurt.  
“You're making demands now?” He coos darkly, a smug tone in his voice, as if talking to prey. He is, in a way. “Very well, I'll amuse you… but.” The claws dig into my shoulders as I'm pulled to my feet, and turned around, the headphones falling off my head from the force of being spun to hang around my neck. There he is, towering over me, eyes glowing red within the depths of his ominous mask.  
“You have to keep eye contact as I speak.” He growls, making me shudder internally.   
“Fine.” I say, locking my eyes on the red glow. I’ll play his weird game if it meant getting some answers. Nearly a full minute passes before he speaks, intentionally drawing this out.  
“What they want it's to help you and in turn you help us work in the shadows to make the world a better place.” He growls every word, and yet… It doesn't sound like a lie.   
“How is chipping me helping?” I think, but he apparently hears this too.  
“We didn't. The chip has been there for years; and I was sent to extract you from Overwatch to disable it.”   
“Why should I believe you about this?” I ask out loud, feeling bolder.  
“You don't have to, but what do I get out of lying? I could have easily killed you, or snagged you away from them without ensuring you were the right person in the initial attack. There is so much we could have done to you by now.” A clawed glove moves from my shoulder to my cheek, gently touching it.   
“We want to help you so you can help the world… that's what you want, isn't it?” His voice taunts, making me break eye contact. I don't want to hear anymore.   
“You have a funny way of showing it.” But his visage is gone already. As I replay the words in my head, I feel conflicted. I glance to the window, remembering what he said would happen if I open it. I move to that window, arms crossed as I look out it.  
The window is heavily reinforced and tinted so nothing could see in, but I could see out it clearly. The window overlooked the beaches of the nearby shores, making me shiver. What is their plan if I do open it? I am several stories up from the ground; and the ways away from the base are.pretty limited… and yet they'd attacked the base, abducted several members, had gotten here unnoticed and had also gotten away. Raising a hand to the glass, I look down to the ground. Eyes focusing below, I nearly scream, jolting back at what I think I see. Two red dots far below in the shadows. 

Knock knock knock. 

I yelp, turning as my door creaks open. S76 stands in the door, brow arched above his mask.  
“A little jumpy, soldier?” He asks, inviting himself in.  
“Can you blame me, Sir?” I retort, calming and smiling.  
“No, I can't. Mercy told me everything.” I must look as stunned by his words as I feel because he rubs the back of his head.  
“She didn't want to, but I pulled rank to find out. I needed to know why one of our best defense agents has been out of commission for so long.”  
“Oh…” is all I can say, leaning against the wall next to the window.  
“Yeah, oh. Mercy hadn't advised anyone else of your current situation, putting the entire base at risk.” I stare at him, feeling my stomach dropping.  
“I'm sorry to do this, Sinclair, but I'm ordering you to solitary confinement until we find a way to reverse this.”  
“Solitary?!” I exclaim. I can't believe my ears.  
“I'll give you a half hour to gather anything you want to have in your room for the duration; but until we have this fixed, you will be contained in a small area so nothing sensitive can be leaked to Talon.” He then exhales, as if this was hard on him. “Anything you need after that can be brought to you. You have a half hour.” Before I can protest, which would be pointless, he's gone out the door. Shaking with anger, I don't leave my room, instead sinking to the floor.   
As I sit there, upset with the newest alienation I have to deal with, I hear Reaper’s voice again, taunting me.  
“And now we play the waiting game.”


	17. Chapter 17

Day 1 of Solitary  
\---

I sit in my chair, watching as the new door is installed on my doorframe; a thick metal door that locks on the outside with a slot big enough to push things through like small objects, books, and meal trays. I feel numb, not saying a word. I am a prisoner now, in my own home; secluded from my peers and allies; being treated as a threat. I understand why it's necessary though. Talon had made me into a living bug.  
But Reaper said Talon didn't put the chip there.   
Remembering his words, so vividly burned into my mind, makes me frown. I think about it for hours, but only come up with more questions. Who put the chip there then? When? Why? And how did Talon know it was there if they didn't do it? More questions then I know what to do with.  
Hearing a scraping sound, I leave the questions in my mind as I get up from where I had been straddling my desk chair backwards, and walk to the metal door. On the floor was a meal tray holding my lunch: a sandwich, apple, salad and a bottled water. Bland, basic stuff that doesn't need to be hot to eat. I grumble, picking up the tray from the floor. I bring it to my desk, putting it down to be forgotten. I don't feel hungry, the questions plaguing my mind too distracting. I move to stand by the window, watching clouds roll across the sky, thick and dark with rain, not quite ready to fall. The rainy season is starting, and that meant as soon as this rain starts, there would be no end of the for a good month or so. I like the rain, it always smelled and felt so nice no matter where I had lived growing up. Smiling a little, I relax. Maybe solitary wouldn't be so bad? I could watch the rain and crack the window open so I can smell- wait. I can't do that! If I open the window, somehow Talon would come for me.  
My heart sinks in my chest at the thought of not being able to even smell the rain. That sweet, pure smell of ozone. I sigh sadly, watching the clouds form.  
It makes me think back to when I was a kid. I loved the rain so much. It felt like cold kisses on my skin when I used to run around in parks, shrieking with glee with the other kids whenever it started. It never lasted long because adults would corral us indoors so we didn’t get sick, but in those brief minutes, I felt so much life in myself. The memory brings a smile back to my face. I press my hand to the glass just as the a commotion starts outside my door. I frown, picking up my whip from my desk before moving to the door, listening.  
“What in the hell you mean I can’t see her?! Open the damn door!” It’s Jesse, and he sounds pissed. The security agents on the other side aren’t budging, and the sound of a fight breaks out on the other side. I stand there, listening, locked in my own room. What else can I do? I shiver as I feel the ghost of the shotgun of pressing to my head again, but when I raise my hand to the spot, I feel nothing. Thinking about it, an odd thought occurs. Reaper usually made himself present by now; but it's been a little more than 24 hrs since I’ve sensed him in any way. It’s concerning.  
Brows furrowing, I look around. I am more alone then I had realized. Why hadn’t the twisted psychopath harassed me yet? Something is up. Frowning, I go back to my desk, where I used to have a phone and computer; but now all I have there is the untouched food and my news tablet. I pick up the tablet and turn it on. Gliding through the various applications; I look for some sort of way to communicate, so I could talk to anyone and express my concerns; but there’s nothing. All I can do is read the various news articles relating to Overwatch, Talon, and the Omnics. Exhaling with exasperation, I put the tablet down again. I wonder how long this will last? They can’t just leave me in here forever… can they?


	18. Chapter 18

Day 6 of Solitary

\---

It's been six days since my Solitary confinement had been sanctioned, and I had passed the time by working out, napping and finding ways to entertain myself. I had rearranged my room several times over, and now my bed is right beside the window so I can watch and faintly hear the rainfall as I sleep. My dresser and desk are now in opposite places, and my room generally felt more open than it did before. I lay in bed, feeling more toned and sore then I have in a while; as I worked out a lot more than I usually do. I lay in my bed, staring at the pouring clouds in the sky through my window. I hadn’t spoken to anyone at all, and I’d barely eaten either. I felt thinner, but I didn’t care. I feel empty, having had so much time to think about everything, but nothing is making sense still.The closest thing to communication I had was Jesse’s continued visits everyday, always arguing and hollering until Soldier 76 comes along and drags him away. But today he hadn’t done that either. I shiver a little, thinking. I needed to talk to SOMEONE. I’m beginning to forget what my own voice sounds like! Did I dare call him? That would be look so bad on me, what with the cameras in my room now constantly monitored...But there isn’t cameras in the bathroom. Grinning to myself, I move my ass about my room as if preparing for a shower.   
I grab a change of clothes, a towel, and some socks, before moving into the bathroom and locking the door behind me. I drop everything onto the floor before turning on the shower to full blast as well as the sink, for good measure. With the water running, I clear my throat before I speak, my voice sounding hollow.  
“Reaper?”  
The only sound would be water running to answer me, and I feel disturbed by this. Why isn’t he answering?  
“Reaper?” I ask in a slightly louder tone. Still nothing. I am beginning to get worried. The ONE person I can communicate with, despite him being an enemy, is not responding. I clench my fists, feeling angry. I can’t handle all this seclusion! I fill my lungs, and shout.  
“RE-Mmph?!” Before I can shout too much and draw attention, there’s a leather glove over my lips, muffling my screams.  
“You called for me?” He growls into my ear, and I can’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over me, no longer alone for the first time in over 6 days. I wait until he removes the gloved hand to speak, which doesn’t take long.  
“Yes. I di-” I begin, but he cuts me off again.  
“So they put you in solitary confinement, and left you to go mad?” He chuckles darkly, and I feel my stomach drop. He wanted this. I can feel it in my gut. He had manipulated me into this situation, so I’d be mentally… malleable. Oddly, though, I don’t entirely care. I relax, making him chuckle more.  
“You seem glad to see me, Vibora.” His gravely voice whispers against my ear, the word ‘vibora’ obviously being a term he uses to refer to me. His hands move done resting just above my navel, and the other resting lazily around my neck, not threatening. I nod, losing my desire for speech to simply enjoy company alone. He hums silently, as if thinking.  
“What should I do with you, mi vibora?” He whispers to himself, but I hear him just fine. I can’t help but shiver, this experience odd and scarily enjoyable. He feels so close; I could feel the warmth of his body sinking into my back.   
“You like this..?” He questions, the claw of his index finger slowly tracing small circles on my abdomen, being gentle. However, his mood seems to foul slightly when I don’t answer, claws digging into my stomach and making me gasp in pain.  
“Answer me.” He hisses, before retracting the claws and resting them gently on my abdomen again.  
“Yes…” I murmur, making him laugh darkly. Not a chuckle, a full on laugh that makes his chest vibrate.  
“Then why are you still here?” He asks, this time letting me think. I… honestly don’t know the answer anymore. I worked so hard, spent my whole life to be here… but I am being isolated and treated like an enemy… by the only family I have ever wanted in my life. I chew my lip and risk changing the subject.  
“Why did you dance with me?” I ask, making him go quiet now. I prepare for the worst, remembering how he lashed out last time… and yet; it might be preferable to this unfamiliar persona. But he surprises me more, feeling a scruffy chin against my neck as he speaks.  
“You looked lonely.” Is all he says on the topic, before changing the topic back. “You wouldn’t be lonely if you leave this place…” He coos into my ear, and the way he sounds, the way hes holding me, makes my knees buckle. What is wrong with me? He’s an enemy… lying through his teeth no doubt… but the comfort is undeniable. Thinking, I steel my resolve.  
“I won’t be a terrorist.” I want to say it strongly, defying him, but it came out a weak whisper. His chest rumbles with laughter again, making me nervous. As he speaks, his words are cold.  
“Don’t call me again then. I won’t come next time.”He begins to leave, making me panic.  
“W-Wait-” I begin, his gloved hand raising to cover my mouth again.  
“Open the window, then we’ll talk.” Is all he says before he is gone again and I feel lonelier than before.  
I stand in my bathroom for a long time, my mind spinning. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I think I am growing attached to Reaper.   
With a sigh of confusion, I strip down and get into the shower, putting the water as cold as it will go and simply stand under the icy stream of water, thinking.  
If what he was saying is true… then is Talon really the bad guy? Sure he is cruel and harsh, but… maybe he’s just frustrated? If Talon really wished me harm, couldn’t they just use the chip to make me suicidal? All they are really doing is trying to convince me to go willingly under the pretext of helping me…. And Overwatch… my family… is treating me like an enemy over something beyond my control.  
I soak in the cold water until I am shivering, and only then do I get out, turning off the sink then the shower. I stand in front of the sink, drying my hair and staring at my naked form. My eyes looked different… the color wasn’t as vibrant as before, like the iris is clouded over with my confusion.   
I rub my eyes, thinking hard. If I open the window, I wouldn’t be trapped in my own room anymore… but if I do, what would everyone else here think of me? I’ll be labeled a traitor. And Jesse… I raise my hand to my lips, remembering our kisses again. Could I give that up? Jesse was my first kiss, my partner in crime, and the closest thing to a friend or family I’ve ever had. But is it worth this? I’ve been secluded for six days, and the only interactions I’ve had is exchanging food trays through the door and now Reaper. Jesse does try to talk to me, but he isn’t allowed to.   
I sigh, getting dressed in the change of clothes I had brought in: A white tube top, a large grey button up wool knit sweater, A pair of flannel pajama shorts and some plain white knee high socks. Dressed, I braid my copper hair, still shivering from the cold of my shower. I toss my old clothes and towel into the hamper, and exit the bathroom.   
While I had been showering, apparently they’d come in and exchanged my old tray for a new one, holding just a bowl of pumpkin soup, some crackers, a spoon and a styrofoam cup of orange juice. I feel my stomach rumble, and the heavenly smell of my favorite soup is so enticing, that I cross the short distance to my desk and sit down. I pick up the spoon and begin to gulp down mouthful after mouthful of the delicious, creamy soup, nearly moaning from the taste alone. But… there is an odd aftertaste.   
My nose scrunches as I taste an odd metallic taste on my tongue. I slowly lower the spoon and stare at the bowl. Did they… lace my food?! My head starts feeling light and off balance, confirming my suspicions. Oh my god… why would they do this?! I panic, heartbeat pounding in my ears. I have to get out of here. I can’t explain this feeling, I feel so scared suddenly. I look around in a frenzy. The door is locked from the outside, and the only other way out is- the window. I can’t think, I have to get out of here. I stand up so quickly, I knock my chair to the floor. As I turn and try to run to the window, my socked feet slip on the floor. I hit the ground so hard I’m momentarily winded. I have to hurry. Pulling myself up, I move to the bed, and crawl over it to get to the window, hands shaking as I pry at the window to open it, but it doesn’t budge. Did they make it so I can’t open it?!   
I don’t waste any time, snagging my whip from my dresser as the bedroom door is unlocked. Were they trying to stop me? I can’t let them stop me! Raising the whip above my head, my mind swimming, I smash the window with the hard butt-end of the handle, the glass cracking, but not breaking. No! I have to break it open! I raise my whip again, but strong hands grab my arms pulling me back. It’s the guards. I lash out, kicking and screaming as they drag me from the window and towards the door.  
“She’s having a mental breakdown..” I can hear the one on my left yelling into his walkie talkie, but they don’t stop, trying to drag me towards the hall, which they are having a seriously hard time doing. I look to the window, my mind pleading my body to find the strength to break free and smash it open.   
I fight as hard as I can, but it’s useless. My mind begins to reel, and I continue to stare at the window as a black shadow forms outside it. I watch in shock, my thrashing stopping momentarily as black smoke leaks through the crack I had made in the window. I can hear Reaper’s laugh echoing off the walls, and it chills my blood. It isn’t in my head this time. The guards stop and look, and I hear one gasp while the other grabs her walkie talkie and requests backup. But I’m focused on the masked man. I can’t look away, watching as Reaper draws two shotguns from his coat and proceeds to open fire on the guards. It’s so loud, my ears begin to ring as the guards let go of me, leaving me sitting on the floor of my room as they are shot in the chests. I can’t help but look away now, covering my ears and staring at the ground, shaking. I could hear the cries of agony as the buckshot strikes their chests again and again, Reaper’s steps walking closer and closer to me. I feel so sleepy now, despite what is happening, as I remain perfectly still. The guards are now silent, but over the now blaring alarms outside my room, I hear him chuckle as he tosses the now empty shotguns to the floor with a resounding ‘thunk!’.  
“Time to go, mi Vibora.” He says, his voice, though gravely, sounds gentle as he picks me up off the ground bridal style, as easily as if I were nothing more than a simple child. To my surprise, he really is as warm as I imagined, but my body is to limp to speak or move as he turns and heads for the window. My head feels so heavy as it falls back limply. I listen as the cracked window is broken completely, but my attention is taken elsewhere.   
“Loura!” the southern accented voice shouts, and I find just enough strength to look back and see Jesse standing in my door, Peacekeeper in hand and looking furious. I sleepily give him a smile and close my eyes, the drowsiness finally overtaking me. 

Good-bye Jesse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I've proof read and posted all the content I had pre-written before I first posted a few days ago; now it'll be more spaced out, as I'll be posting as I write it.
> 
> Also, the thing about Gabe being warm is one of my other head cannons. To regenerate at the rate he constantly does, it would take a lot of energy, so I theorize that energy would create an abnormal warmth, as if he has a constant fever. Just a thought c:
> 
> Let me know what you guys think and please do not hesitate to make suggestions! Suggestions are awesome, even if I don't use them.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been a few days since I last posted, sorry <3 Here's a nice little memory while our protagonist is unconscious.

Today is the day my life goes from bad to worse. It’s my 13th birthday, and I haven’t been adopted still. This only left one option for my well being. The foster care system. I was too old to remain at the Port of Spain orphanage where I’d been living since the crisis. I packed the few belongings I had, a few books, some clothes, and a little journal I scribbled down the weird dreams I had every morning. I didn’t know under whose care I would be placed under, but it couldn't be all that bad, right? My social worker, Cherelle, said the couple who I’d be living with can never have children of their own, and wouldn’t care that I’ll only be living with them for a few years until I’m a legal adult and can go my own way. Glancing at my room in the care-house, I feel a little sad to see it go, having lived here for 7 years. It would be the longest place I’d ever live in, but I didn’t know that yet. I pull my backpack of belongings on and head down stairs, Cherelle filling out the paperwork with Monique, the owner of the care-house, to have me released into government custody. Monique was an older, dark skinned woman with a thick puff of graying hair surrounding her head, kind of like a cloud, and she always had this grandmotherly feel to her, like it would break your heart to disappoint her. My social worker, on the other hand, was very different. She was young and vibrant, her hair straight and features ageless, making it hard to tell how old she was. All I knew was she was nice to me, and she was very beautiful and vibrant, encompassing Trinidad’s culture very well. That day she’d worn these beautiful earrings that looked like peacock tail feathers, black, glossy pumps, a rich blue silk blouse, and perfectly ironed black pinstriped dress pants. I remembered when I’d seen her in a parade a few months back. She was like most women I’d seen growing up, beautiful, proud of their bodies, and not afraid to show some skin. She had worn this beautiful fiery red bikini covered in rhinestones and feathers, with a matching headdress, arm and leg belts, and high heels, dancing in the streets like a bird performing a mating display. It was beautiful and artistic and I remember wanting to do that so badly one day. Maybe I would if I still lived in Trinidad?  
“Come on, Loura, we have a long trip ahead of us. Do you have everything?.” The thickly accented woman would ask, offering me a hand. I take it as I nod, giving Monique one last wave good bye. Cherelle takes me outside, where her car is waiting, her hand so warm and enveloping. I trusted her to send me to a good family. She drove us to the airport, which surprised me, but she had assured me that my new life in Corrales, New Mexico would be a good one. She told me all about my new parents on the seven and a quarter hour flight there, to help ease my nerves, as I didn't like planes. They were a nice couples that were married for 5 years, but can never have kids. They own a big sunflower farm with a creek on the edge of the property, and a vegetable garden in the back. The sunflowers they grew were sold to companies to become salty snacks, and the veggies they sold at the local farmers market. It sounded like a nice, simple life. When we land in Albuquerque, I feel so tired, having refused to sleep in the flying death trap. When we get into the taxi she hails down outside the airport, she gives me my documentation and passport, showing I am now an american citizen via. foster care. I tucked them into my backpack with my other belongings, feeling tired.  
“It's alright, Loura. You can sleep, now. It's just a short drive to your new family, and when you wake up, you’ll be home.” I regret listening to Cherelle, as when I did wake up from my nap in the car, I was sleeping in a strange bed, the room completely pink and glittery in every way. Pink bedding. Pink glittery paint. Pink glittery canopy. Pink lacy curtains with fairies on them. Pink shaggy rug. Pink furniture. There was a mountain of stuffed bears and unicorn posters, and at 13 years old, it was so very cringe worthy. It looked like whoever my new parents were robbed a princess’ castle. Then the white bedroom door with pink and purple flowers painted on it creaked open and in the door was an omnic with masculine features. I screamed.


	20. Chapter 20

I wake up screaming from my nightmare, only for it to continue in the waking world. I’m faced down on some sort of cushioned table, similar to that of a massage table, except my arms are at right angles, hands up towards my head. Groaning, feeling very disoriented, I try to turn over, only to discover I can’t. To my horror, I’m strapped down to this table, not even able to turn my head. I pull my arms and struggle, but it’s no use. I can’t move an inch, my entire body strapped down. I shiver, feeling a chill run down my spine. This room is very cold, and even worse, my sweater is gone, leaving me in a pair of shorts and a tube top. Tied face down on some sort of table. I begin to panic, thrashing about as best I could in the restraints. From what I could tell, no one is in the room with me at that moment in time. As I struggle, I hear his dark chuckle in my head.  
“It's no use, mi víbora.” His dark, rumbling voice echos, chilling me to my very core.  
“Why are you doing this to me?!” I can't help but cry out, panicking. Even more of a surprise is when an oxygen mask raises from the floor and presses to my face, pumping a steady stream of general anesthesia into my airway. I try to slow my breathing, not wanting to be knocked out again. I’ve been unconscious too many times in the past little while.  
“Just breath deeply. You need to breath deeply so we can take care of your chip.” He snarls, sounding annoyed by my controlled breathing. In spite, I want to hold my breath, but I think about it. Reaper… isn't a bad guy, is he? He only lashed out in frustration, but other then that, all he seems to be doing is helping me. But he's with Talon… and yet Talon had rescued me from the people I thought I could trust…. So I obey, taking deep, steady breaths. He softly chuckles in my head, and I swear for the first time, I feel the ghostly press of the shotgun’s barrel fully dissipate.  
“Sleep well, niña. Yo te cuidaré.” After a few minutes of forcing myself to stay calm and breath, the shadows of slumber rapidly return, dragging me down into my personal nightmares.  
\---  
Once the niña is asleep, Reaper grumbles to himself, taking out the earpiece he has in. The small piece of tech was designed by Sombra to communicate with the microchip implants, and in turn, communicate with the hosts. He watches on the screen as Talon’s medics begin to take care of the microchip embedded in Viper’s neck. Judging by the x-rays that had been taken from Overwatch’s database, they couldn't remove the chip without the risk of paralyzing Miss.Sinclair, best case scenario. Worst case scenario, she ends up dead, and they lose a valuable asset. Lucky for the niña, they have an unlikely ally overseeing the operation. Since they can't remove the chip, their ally worked with Sombra and their mechanical resource department to design an implant that would override the chip’s programming, jam the signal and nullify it. As Reaper watches, he hears the familiar buzz of Sombra’s cloaking tech dropping, feeling her lean on his side as if he was nothing more than a wooden post.  
“What are you looking at?” He grunts, seeing her doing something with the violet monitors she could make appear at will.  
“You like her, Gabe.” The latina states, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Reaper growls softly, fists clenching.  
“She is nothing more than an asset.” He retorts, jolting his bicep back to make Sombra fall, however the quick latina easily catches herself, standing up straight.  
“Oh really? Then you still like that doctor? She is very pretty, and still looks good for 37. Or maybe its-”  
“Enough Sombra.” He hisses, knowing where she was going next and refusing to allow her to say it out loud.  
“Lo que usted diga viejo.” She says with that annoyingly smug smirk on her lips, working away at some sort of coding that only she seemed to understand.  
“¿A quién llamas viejo, niña?” He growls, clenching his fists again. God he wanted to punch her in her smug face. She always tries to get a rise out of everyone. He’d have slaughtered her and devoured her soul by now if she wasn’t so vital to their operations.  
He turns away and leaves, refusing to give Sombra what she wants.  
“No te preocupes, viejo, nos encargaremos de tu nueva amiga.” Sombra calls after him, the shadow of the man he once was storming off to find a good soul or two to devour to take the edge off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Yo te cuidaré = I will take care of you  
> Lo que usted diga viejo = Whatever you say old man.  
> ¿A quién llamas viejo, niña? = Who are you calling old, little girl?  
> No te preocupes, viejo, nos encargaremos de tu nueva amiga. =  
> Do not worry, old man, we'll take care of your new friend.
> 
> \---
> 
> As always, comments are appreciated c:


	21. April Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is literally just an April Fools blip I wrote this morning, because I had a funny dream of the overwatch members pranking each other.

I lay in bed, dreading today. It’s April 1st. Jesse’s favourite day. I’d heard the horror stories of the past pranks, like switching Zarya’s protein powder with a mix of icing sugar, flour and baking powder, putting vaseline on all the doorknobs in the entire base. What was he going to do this time? What was everyone planning? Only one way to find out, I suppose. I hadn’t been around the base last April first, so I’d been spared last year. Getting up for the day, I go to my dresser to grab my towel off it to shower. I wash my hair and body with my typical apple scented products, but when I get out and towel off, I shriek in horror as I look at my hair and skin. My hair is dark blue! And my skin around my scalp had a faint blue tint! Someone put blue dye in my shampoo! If I find out who did this, I’ll kill them! Storming out of my bathroom, I go to my dresser and yank open the top drawer. But they clearly weren’t done with me. No. Apparently at some point someone had raided my top drawer, as all that I find is my socks. No underwear. No bras. What the fuck?! I am on the verge of screaming, as two pranks at 6 in the morning is not cool! I have nothing planned, as I didn’t know about the base wide prank day until just last night. Grudgingly, I get dressed, and go to open the door, only to find a note on the handle. I pick it up, and read it.  
‘Let the tricks begin! -Love, D.Va’ Great. So everyone is pranking me today? With a sigh, I open the door, and shriek as an air horn sounds! They’d taped an air horn to the frame outside my door, a string attached between the trigger and the door itself, so that when I opened it, it goes off. Snap! A camera flashes, and Hana is laughing, grinning from ear to ear.  
“April fools, Loura!” She grins, running off with her photo. Clicking my tongue, I leave my room, too short to take down the damn air horn. Someone had to have helped Hana put it up, and my money is on Jesse. I head for the mess hall, needing a cup of hot chocolate to deal with this shit. I manage to avoid any more pranks until I’m just about to enter the mess hall. I open the door, and puff! White glitter rained down on my now blue hair like snow. Snap! Another camera went off. My narrowed green blue eyes lock onto the grinning, guilty face of Mei.  
“Snow suits you, Loura!” She laughed, and her laugh is infectious, because I can’t be mad about this. It was harmless, and actually funny.  
“Good one, Mei… I’ll get you back later!” I brushed off as much glitter as I could before going to the beverage bar to mix up a coco.  
\---  
Meanwhile, Jesse was up to nothing good. He was going through his checklist of pranks: Call in a favor from a certain hacker that owed him to change all the scoreboard on the classic Donkey Kong on the arcade machine in the commons room to make it look like he broke Hana’s highscore. She hadn’t noticed yet, but when she does, it’ll be amazing. He and Lucio remixed Hanzo’s meditation disk so that half way through, cotton-eye joe cuts in. He’d switched Angela’s dairy free coffee creamer for crushed Alka-seltzer tabs. He’d helped D.Va set up the air horn on Loura’s door while Lena did a pantie raid and stole all her undies. He was actually surprised as Lena took them back to her own room to hide them, seeing all the VERY girly things his partner wore under all her clothes. He chuckled, remembering what he had planned for her later. It was a dorky gag that should make her laugh, and maybe punch him. He’d gotten a green apple flavored ring pop, and he planned to stage a joke-posal, which should be funny, since they weren’t even dating. Today was gonna be fun.  
\---  
The morning goes by with more minor pranks, switching milk and orange juice in their cartons, whoopee cushions and air horns rigged to chairs, fake bugs on food, and Junkrat literally shoving a coconut cream pie in Mei’s face, which was hilarious. I spend the better part of the morning thinking of a good way to prank someone, so I don’t seem like a spoil sport. It will have to be a prank on Jesse, that much I know. My attention is drawn to Jesse as he walks into the commons room, D.Va angrily playing classic Donkey Kong to reclaim her title as the highscore queen. My eyes are immediately drawn to his goofy hat. Yes. HIS HAT. It’s perfect. I just need to wait for the perfect moment to snatch it and run. Jesse could barely keep up with me on his best days, so it’d be perfect! Grinning, I get up, meeting him halfway, having apparently been coming towards me too.   
“Blue hair suits you.” He chuckles, raising his human hand and ruffling up my now blue mop of curls.  
“Oh really? You like wild hair colors then?” I retort, waiting. Any second now, that window of opportunity will come.  
“Nah, you look better with red.” He grins, joking as always. However, he drops something, his face twists into a sudden panic as he drops down to get it.  
“Shoot..” He mutters. “I hope it didn’t break.”   
That’s when I sprung my trap, snagging his hat off his head and running as fast as I could, laughing maniacally. He heard him curse, forgetting about whatever he’d dropped to run after me.  
“Get back here, Missy!” He hollers, but I keep running, grinning deviously.  
The packaged ringpop remains on the floor of the common room, abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeeeeee~ I just wanted to include this in case anyone wanted to read a weird blip I thought of. I've got an actual chapter incoming very soon!


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now we return to our story.

After what may have been only a few hours of nightmares and distorted memories, I yawn softly, having not slept so well and so deeply in a long time. What a weird nightmare I had. Remembering my childhood, getting forcibly held down and cut open by- wait. That wasn’t a dream. My neck hurts like hell. I bolt up, wincing and clasping a hand to my bandaged neck as I do, looking around in a panic. My hand is met by thick gauze covering whatever had been done to me, and beneath it, I feel something hard embedded in my skin.  
I am in a dark room, my eyes adjusting quickly to see…. Nothing. It's a small, dark room, with nothing but the bed I sat in and no visible door. I frown and look around. What the hell? There really is no door visible. I hug my sweater to my chest, feeling uncomfortable in my pajamas, but glad my sweater had been returned to me after the forced surgery.  
Just as I go to stand, the roof lights up blindingly, making me gasp and flinch, covering my eyes. I hear something opening and closing, but I don't see what by the time my eyes don't sting from the sudden brightness enough to look. What I do see though, is Roger Norman, carrying a breakfast tray. My eyebrows fly up as my jaw drops. Roger, the one who had pulled me out of the sheep dip when I had gotten stuck, and one of the other field agents that was successfully abducted. He smiles seeing me, a sweet dimple in his cheek. He is wearing Talon gear now though, so I will not trust him as far as I can throw him. Not yet anyways. He must see this, because he looks hurt.  
“Hey Sinclair, sleep okay?” He asks continuing to be kind. I back up a little, retreating further onto the bed.  
“What are you doing here, in their uniform?” I say, my distrust clear in my voice.  
“The Ops. Manager thought it would be a good idea to see a friendly face first. So they sent me since we'd gone through training together.” He says this like it's the most natural thing in the world.  
“I brought you breakfast.” He continues, but I glare as he takes another step, feeling like a snake coiled in a corner, ready to strike if he pulls anything funny. He sees this, and takes a step back again. He looks uncomfortable, as if I really am a snake.  
“Look, Sinclair, these guys really aren't the bad guys. You have to trust them, because despite the media, they actually are doing things for the greater good.” He says, but he looks afraid still.  
“Why should I believe you? You've been in their custody for over a week, and you're wearing their clothes .” I question, feeling anxiety building in my stomach. I hadn’t talked much to Roger after training, and now he’s being used to… do what? Bring me breakfast? Lull me into a false sense of security?  
But hadn’t I gone to them willingly? Why had I done that? Talon is evil, aren’t they? And yet… I instinctively went to them because the people I thought I could trust had laced my food and locked me up to go mad.  
Roger sees the internal conflict in my eyes and he smiles a bit, crossing the rest of the distance to sit on the edge of the bed, putting the tray on the ground.  
“You know… when Talon took us away from Overwatch, it was terrifying. We had no idea what was going on or why we, of all people were wanted alive by them. At first they seem like we always imagined them to be: evil, ruthless serial killers with no sense of goodness in them. But when we got here, they showed us things, things that prove that Talon isn’t the bad guy.” Roger looks to me with pleading eyes, begging me to trust him.  
He didn’t look harmed in any way at a first glance, but then I see a bandage on the back of his neck, just hidden under the collar of his new uniform, smaller than my own, as if he’d had something done there as well.  
“What did they do to you?” I mouth to him, afraid to say it out loud. But Roger looks surprised, raising a hand to his neck, as if a part of him forgot what is there. However, the conversation is cut short, as this time, I do see a door opening, so seamlessly blended with the white walls that I hadn’t noticed it before now.  
The person who comes through the door, however, chills my very soul.  
Reaper is standing just inside the room, and I see Roger stiffen a little at the sight of him too.  
“That’s enough, Norman. You are dismissed.” He growls, his voice much more intense than before. As Roger stands up and heads for the door, I do to, not wanting to be sitting in a room with him. I internally wince from the icy cold floors of this room as I stand up, the thin material of my socks making my feet feel bare. But I don’t waste time, watching Roger leave without a good-bye, without even a glance back.  
I watch as the door behind Reaper slides shut, and with it, the lights go out again. I gasp, startled by the lights going off, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkened, empty room again. As I struggle to grow accustomed to the dark, I hear Reaper chuckling softly, low and predatorial, tying knots in my gut. I shuffle back, away from the sound, feeling around behind me, not wanting to corner myself.  
“You seem afraid, Mi Vibora.” He says in a curious tone, his voice getting closer, though his movements still don’t make a sound. It’s so unnerving, being in a dark room, unable to see well or hear any movements but my own, with Reaper.  
“You don’t need to be afraid here, Vibora. You came to us in your time of need, and we are your allies.” His red eyes begin to glow, and he is right in front of me, making me gasp. Leather clad hands grip my forearms, the metal claws softly pressing into my arms. I shiver a little, the cold from the metal soaking through my knit sweater, reminding me of the sensation of those very claws tearing into the flesh of my back. His hands feel very strong, gently squeezing my arms. Uncomfortable, I blurt out the one thing that’s been eating away at the back of my mind. “What does Vibora even mean?”  
There is a prolonged silence as Reaper lets go of my arms, the red glow of his eyes intensifying. Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? He HAD said he’d tell me what it meant when I went to him.  
“It means..” He begins, his tone of voice changing as the cold talons of his gloves hook under my jaw, the red glow dimming to a smolder. “...Viper. Your field name.”  
He digs his claws into my jaw a little, as if annoyed, murmuring to himself. I only catch the word ‘sirena’ at the end. He pulls back again, and I can’t help but raise a hand to rub my jaw. As I do, the door across the room opens again.  
“Come on..” Reaper growls, his dark silhouette retreating towards the door. “It’s time you learned the truth about Talon, and our operations.” My surprise must be a tangible force, because he chuckles, glancing back, the profile of his white mask having an odd charm to it.  
“You can’t escape on your own in the middle of our base. You’re considered low threat. Hurry up.” He doesn’t sound amused though, his tone bordering on cold, like when he was about to lose his temper. Jeez, I thought I had a short fuse! With a huff, I cross my arms under my chest and follow him in my socked feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only got one chapter left pre-written, and I plan to post that either at then end of this week or early next week. As always, comments are VERY welcome, and I hope everyone who reads is enjoying this so far! <3


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